Showing posts with label bloggy friends. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bloggy friends. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

What Happened To Gratituesday?

Posted by MANDI at 9:54 PM 4 comments
Why nothing! I've just been a bit busy, and a bit distracted and not posting all that regularly and it kind of slipped by the wayside. But then I was reading one of my daily blog reads earlier today and I realised that I hadn't done a Gratituesday post for a while and thought that I should really get my act together.

 So this week I'm grateful to another blogging friend. She told me about this:


And it has become a firm favourite in my house. So much so that, as you can see I very quickly went from the little box of ten to the good-sized box of 100 teabags.

And I'm grateful for bloggy friends. Who remind to look on the sunny side, tell me about new things to try, provide me with beautiful posts to read and generally make my already rich-beyond-belief life even better.

Saturday, May 7, 2011

How NOT To Get To A Blogging Meet-Up

Posted by MANDI at 5:25 PM 11 comments
Last night I went to a bloggers meet-up and met some of the Perth bloggers I have long admired. I met some I'd only come across recently and I met a few who I'm planning to cyber-stalk until the end of time. In a good way! You'd think that would be the most exciting, pulse-racing, can't-quite-catch-my-breath part of the night wouldn't you? But no. For me (and I apologise for borrowing this phrase from every reality tv show every) it was all about the journey.

You know I have no sense of direction, right? That I get lost? A lot? It doesn't even matter if I know where I'm going. Chances are I'm still going to take a wrong turn, miss a set of traffic lights or just plain stuff up the directions somewhere along the way. Yes I have a GPS. No it doesn't always help. It generally just means I get a little bit less lost than I might do otherwise.

So I started out with my highest boots on, dressed up for a night out at a bar. I don't even remember the last time I went to a bar. I was ready to meet and greet, schmooze and move, influence and be influenced. Oh okay, I was bloody nervous but I had great boots and lots of makeup on so I figured I'd wing it and and hope it turned out okay. Anyway, as I left Hubby asked if I wanted the GPS in my car. I looked at him with airy unconcern, assured him I knew where I was going and declined his kind offer. First mistake.

I tootled off, music blaring and fingers tapping on the steering wheel. I congratulated my speed-demon self when I passed a police speed camera actually doing the 70kph that was the speed limit. And then drove straight through a set of traffic lights that I should have hung a left at. Second mistake.

It took me another 15 or so minutes to work that mistake out. Third mistake.

But all was not lost. I knew where I could hang another left and get myself back on track. Sure it'd put me a little behind schedule but that was okay. I knew where I was, I knew where I was going and I knew how to get there. Right? Um.... no. And that'd be the fourth mistake. And the seventh mistake too.

But I hit the tunnel under the city (sort of, it's kind of next to it but you get my point) and watched the signs carefully so I didn't miss my exit. Then I missed my exit. Fifth mistake. And ended up on the freeway on the other side of the city. Sixth mistake. Telling myself not to panic I executed a very nice manoeuvre whereby I swung across five (yes five!) lanes of traffic and grabbed the first exit I could find. All okay except for the whole not knowing where the hell I was. There may have been a lot of swearing in the car right about then. To be honest, there probably was. But I didn't panic. I figured I was only just on the other side of the city and if I followed the road I was on I'd hit a set of traffic lights that would probably be a fairly major road and, with any luck, I'd recognise the road name and work out where I was. Finally something went my way. I did hit a set of traffic lights. I did recognise the name and I did turn the right way to get me back where I needed to be. Then I hit another road I recognised, not too far from where I was heading, and by an absolute fluke took the right turn again. Totally accidentally! Yay me!!

With a very big sigh of relief I tootled across to where I thought I needed to be. Yeah. Thought. But of course that wasn't where the bar was at all. People, I do believe we're up to mistake number seven. The one I referred to earlier. Again with the 'don't panic' self-talk I found a side street with some parking and called Hubby. Who laughed. And then looked up the real address. And told me how to get there.

Righto. Start again. Missed a road I needed and ended up in a totally different suburb. Again. Mistake number eight. On the bright side, at this point I knew where I was, I really did know where I was going and finally I knew how to get there.

Fast forward all of about 10 minutes and wa-lah! I was finally there. An hour and a half  after I started out. But there none-the-less. The trip home was somewhat less torturous though there is a distinct possibility that I may have taken one wrong turn. But that one was easily fixed and that journey took me decidedly less time than the one I'd undertaken earlier in the evening!

Monday, January 10, 2011

Inspirational People

Posted by MANDI at 9:12 PM 0 comments
A loooong time ago I went to school with a boy called Clinton. Not so long ago we reconnected on Facebook and I've been following his progress to lose weight and get fit. Let's not beat about the bush. He is one big man. But, he used to be a lot bigger and sometime in the future he's hoping to be a lot smaller. Being the complete sloth I am, I'm in awe of the stuff he does - he's taken part in triathlons, done some seriously massive bike rides and even ran in the annual City to Surf race last year. A few days ago he posted that he'd decided to take part in a marathon. Seriously? A marathon? I weigh a little less than half of what he currently does and I can't be bothered getting off my bum to walk around the block. Sure, I can say that the block is 3.8 kilometres but really, that's just an excuse and we all know it.

Today he posted that he'd started a blog, Run Fatboy Run, proving that not only is he up for a challenge but that he can have a laugh along the way. I hope you'll go check out his new blog and join me in cheering him on from the bloggy sidelines. Who knows, he might even inspire me to actually get off the couch (or computer, as the case might be!).
 

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