A confusing title for this post, yes. However, it reflects yesterday very well.
I looked on the bright side of the vandalism of my poor Little White Holden Nova. First of all, there was the amusing exchange with the lovely police lady when I made my report. She made me look at the funny side of things – that is, the theft of my anti-bacterial hand gel – and I felt much brighter after our chat. (And Jenny-Anne, I think you might be right about her being a hot cop, à la Angie Dickinson. She certainly sounded Angie hot!)
And as I was hoovering the remains of my broken window from within my car later that afternoon, I thought, “Well, at least this has made me finally hoover my poor little car”, which was in desperate need of a little hoovering TLC.
I have been house- and cat-sitting for my friend in the criminal hub that is East Victoria Park, so given the compromised state of my vehicle, I thought it prudent for my car and I to retreat to the secure and comforting family estate in Glen Forrest for the night, which meant FOXTEL!! After hoovering the car, I had a lovely warm shower, donned my comfy-est Peter Alexander PJs and plonked myself in front of the telly to catch up on Survivors, the second series of which is currently screening on UKTV, while scoffing SFFs. (SFFs being Cadbury chocolate Strawberry Freddo Frogs, my drug of choice for those of you who haven’t been paying attention.)
I thought I would cheer myself up further by calling my niece and nephews. I called the boys first, but as they were busy with their soccer careers I made do with a short conversation with my Accountant Sister, whose plans for the evening were so sad it made me feel so happy. My Accountant Sister was preparing for the arrival of two Accountant Colleagues, who were coming over to watch the Australian treasurer Whatshisname deliver his Budget 2011. Okay, they were going to be in celebratory mode, that is, quaffing champers, as the Treasurer delivered his budget and listening intently when he got to the part of the budget in which they had given their accountantly assistance and advice, but still.
I called my niece next and assisted her with cracking a code she was working on, the results of which had something to do with farts. Very amusing, as anything to do with farts is. (Although this statement is easily expressed when one is, like me, anosmic, that is, without the olfactory ability “to perceive odours”, therefore limiting the impact of farts upon my person.) However, my cheeriness was soon compromised by my loving niece during the following exchange.
Niece: Something very important is happening on Friday, Auntie Lisa.
Me: Really? What? Is it Kylie’s birthday?
Niece: No, that’s been and gone! Her birthday is on February 26th.
Me: Really? I had better write that in my diary for next year then. So what’s happening on Friday?
Niece: What date is your birthday again, Auntie Lisa?
Me: March 1st. Why?
Niece: [delivered with mischievousness tone] You have the same birthday as Justin Bieber!
Niece: Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
And with that, my day descended into hopelessness and despair once more.