Yep. Yep I know. I haven't been here for ages. But seriously, who actually reads this anyway!

I have just written an email to my bestie. I do believe it sums up my current state....

Peace out sister.

lovek

ps--OOOOOHH totally forgot. Went to the florist yesterday. She was a pain in the arse. Well she was busy, had just had a delivery of flowers and was searching through boxes looking for some flower "that would be thirsty" and was completely unhelpful. She goes, all pissed off like too I might add, "well usually brides make appointments to come and see me" like I was some fucking bride leper and it's all my fault I'm not fucking living, sleeping, eating and breathing my fucking wedding and that I didn't know that you make APPOINTMENTS FOR FLOWERS!!! I'm sorry I don't have a freaking pink diary with important stuff in it like "monday, gush with friends over totally cute desserts" or "tuesday, go to bridal store and try on 16 equally unflattering dresses while everyone tells me I look like a princess" or have pages and pages where I have practiced my new name "mrs Kathryn Tessier. Mr and Mrs L Tessier. Mrs Kathryn Tessier Green. Ms Green Tessier. Ms Green-Tessier. Ms Tessier-Green"(that is the first time ever I have actually done that, still not thinking bout name stuff).

I just wanted flowers!!!Anyway in the end she was kinda helpful and I walked away accepting that I had to come back and make an appointment. Then in the middle of writing all this I have been searching for the link to their website. Found it. Choose this place cause I thought I could get kick arse flowers with out them being bridey. I have since looked again and I think I've failed....I think this is what she was talking about me having

*insert link which I removed cause I don't need what few readers I may or may not have commenting on fucking flowers. Ok? I mean it in the nicest possible way, just the fewer people that lie to me about "totally cute flowers!" the better.*

You know how you get dumped by waves at the beach and for a minute you can't work out which way is up and which way is down? I'm kind of like that about all of it at the moment so I can't even tell if these are good, bad, or really freaking scary. So tell me how bad are they? Or are they good. Cause for sake of ease, whatever I have, you have, a smaller version. So keep that in mind when you put on your "you look like a princess!" grimace and lie through your teeth. Cause you're going to look like a dickhead too if you don't tell me the truth. I need a nap.lovek

So I was just sending an email to a friend detailing to her the virtues of ignoring things. I told her I was ignoring a situation with a friend and she said she was ignoring one with her friend and both are working out beautifully.
Today saw the start of my new role as key teacher at school. It alludes to the fact that my role in the school is pivotal and without me the place would fall apart. Lies. All lies. Basically I'm an underpaid data collection service. I got off to a flying start. I was under the impression there was a meeting today. Wrong. It's next Monday. Luckily for me I only shamed myself in front of my admin, not the whole of district office by showing up a week early. Oh and the organising lady who I emailed to say I'd be there today...
The the principal says to me "Kathryn, got confirmation of data download, have been requested to recheck our results on Corporate Data Warehouse. Can you do that for me?" Me: "Sure, no worries, I'll do it today!" all the while thinking what the? In English? PLEASE!?! So I head over to our HOC and ask him "where do I find the warehouse? The one with data in it?" He speaks fluent Kathryn and understands immediately what it is I require, hooks me up with the website I need and the username and password. In his office, on his computer. The pressure...
So he toodles off to do HOCey things, comes back 5 minutes later and there is me. Still staring at the same screen. Still wondering what sort of warehouse is on a computer. Still wondering how exactly I'm meant to find it. So he looks at me like the moron I am and says very slowly, just in case my last brain cell is dying, "try searching for it" and points to the search box. I then had what I believe Oprah would call a lightbulb moment. So I search, and after clicking lots of links and not getting where I needed to be, I decided to stop taking the long road and clicked on the very first link that I'd been diligently ignoring. Because it seemed to easy. And lo and behold, there was this elusive warehouse. Let me give you the heads up though....IT'S NOT A WAREHOUSE!!! It's a screen full of stuff! Warehouses are sheds with concrete floors, are cold all year round and have little men wearing steel capped boots, helmets that make them look like a lego man, and forklifts whizzing everywhere with lights flashing and sirens blazing.
Now before you think I'm a total lost cause, I knew all along that at the end of my yellow brick road I was not going to find a warehouse, but why do they try and make it sound cool? Why not just call it what it is? "Kathryn can you go check the very confusing website with no clear links, for information that doesn't exists, that no one but you cares about for me please?" That's what Mr Principal should have said.
Sadly for you, I am not at the end of my story. Cause after all this, I'm still too blonde/stupid/young/of feeble mind to work out how to check what it is I need to check.
And now friends, I am coming to the end of my tale. So I decided to do what I have so recently discovered to be a truly successful stress management technique...

I ignored it. I clicked on the little red cross in the top right corner, smiled prettily at both men and walked out. Do either of them know I haven't actually checked it yet? No. Do either of them care? No. Will either of them ask me in a weeks time if I really did check it? No. So I'm ignoring it. I suggest you try it....

ooooh long time no speaky... So we moved. We have a house. It's big. And I moved everything I need to the kitchen table so I dont have to leave the little bubble that is the kitchen and lounge room. Just like before. I have monster big clay play area now and as such I made stuff...

Heather from http://www.humblebeads.com/ makes these cuffs. They're her idea and I in no way shape or form pretend that it's anything other than hers. I did make the bead myself though and that was something I wasn't skilled enough to copy.....So I didn't even bother and just went big and bright. I so don't condone copying, hate copy catters, so I'm trying my bestest to make sure Heather gets the credit she's due.

Then I had an episode with the buffing wheel. It scares me. The grinder on the other side of the buffing wheel spins at the same time...it scares the crappers out of me and I keep waiting for some monster bad thing to happen. Usually in my head it involves something making me loose my balance...usually an earthquake and I stumble and put my hand out and grind my hand off. Or rip a whole lot of skin off. Alternatively, I have visions of me vauging out, cause I do that, and getting my finger caught on the nut that holds the buffing wheel on....

So. Picture this. I'm holding a wittle wittle bead the size of...well....hmmm...ok, we'll say my little finger - cept it's a little shorter and a bit fatter, and nothing like the size of my little finger. Right so, I'm trying to very timidly hold this bead and buff it on the super fast spinning wheel thats the size of....um....ok a small pizza. If you hold the bead on it's edge and hold it in the wrong spot, the wheel bites it and rips it violently from your hand and flings it into regions unknown. If you get your fingies too close it burns them. Overall it's a tense and unplesant experience. However...the beads look so purty when they're buffed that I go through that whole process rather frequently.

And now we come to reason for today's post. The cuff...

Ok so I lied....

So last time I promised that I would get back to regular programming. But I lied. I'm not going to. And here's why. In 2 weeks a 1 day we are the proud owners of our first home. When I say owners, I say "owners". We all know of course that we'll own precisely jack shit of it and the bank owns it holey and soley. If we are lucky, and if we work hard, and if we eat porridge for breakfast, lunch and tea for the next 12 months, by this time next year, we might own the kitchen cupboards, or maybe the taps in the bathroom, possibly even, dare I say it, the walk in robe...?
But I digress.
As of right this second, we are yet to back a box. In fact we are so far from packing boxes, we don't even have all that many boxes to pack with... When we moved from the caravan into the unit at the beginning of 2006, we got my puny little puddle of stuff out of storage. And we (I say we, I really mean I) had enough foresight to save the boxes as we unpacked them. All 4 of them... So they've been sitting out in the elements for the last 18 months, and I'm sure when we come to use them, not only will they not have disintergrated, but they would have gained magical properties that will enable us to pour the entire contents of our unit into just the four of them. And now I'm alarmed....because it's only while typing this that I'm coming to grips with just how under prepared we are for this. We were going to pack this weekend. It's what we've been telling ourselves for the last 4 weeks to get out of having to actually do anything. But seriously, where do we expect to put everything?
My next problem is this. It's only 2 weeks right. If we start packing on the weekend, the stuff will only stay in the box for 2 weeks, maybe 3 if it's totally useless shit that we should've chucked rather than bothering with the whole packing part. BUT! What if I pack something that I find I want during that 2 weeks....then what?
And finally we have reached the heart and soul of the problem. My clay. I can't pack my clay. You see, if I packed the clay away, we would have a rather large area where we could store the yet-to-be-packed boxes. It's also one of the most time consuming therefore probably the most important parts of the house to be packed. Also, if it was packed, I'd stop sitting down at it and would then have no choice to do anything BUT pack. Or read, or google anything and everything, or stare at the budgie, or watch bad TV, or any number of other time wasting activities.
What I want is to sit at my clay. I have a truckload of stuff I want to try, finish, start, remember, but we have a house to pack. How can I sit and clay when I have a house to pack? Not guilt free, that's for sure. So I don't clay. But I don't want to pack cause I want to clay, so I don't pack.
So in short I'm sulking.

Oh my goodness! It's June....I completely missed May.... Life has been rather crazy. On my to do list is:
-pack to move into new house
-report cards
-internal monitoring
-Year 2 net validation
-Year 2 net moderation
-plan this wedding we're meant to be having
-see if I can cross paths with fiance from said wedding cause I'm starting to forget what he looks like
and last but not least
-wait for the need to do these things to kick in...

So we move in three weeks, and are yet to pack a single box. In fact we have only got as far as deciding that when we do pack we are going to start with the books. Cause that makes the most sense. You need to start with things you're not going to miss for a little while right. And therein lies the problem. What if I do miss a book for the 3 weeks they're in the box? Because my to do list is so short it is likely that I will have time to read copious amounts of books between now and then...

Then there are the reports and testing which I'm studiously ignoring. I have paper surrounding me that I'm meant to be using to type reports. In fact I even have a child's report open on another screen, waiting to be told glorious things about his first 6 months with me. Sadly for this child in particular I have few glorious things to say about him...

Now allegedly I'm meant to be marrying my better half in - oh god I just counted! - 7 months! Why oh why then are people freaking harrassing us for details? We have told them it's New Year's Eve, we've told them it will be here in the not so sunny at that time of year Cairns, so what more do they need to know! We've even told them the venue, which was an ordeal in itself trying to find. So we have a date and a place and that is all I really have the energy for right now. It comes last in the timeline that is my to do list so last it shall be addressed.

Now I don't want to let my ADD or ADHD, whichever letters it's meant to be these days, shine through here, and don't want to display just how erratic and completely useless at staying on task I am. So. I apologise for hijacking my clay blog and temporarily turning into my whinge blog. I shall endevour to return, before the month is out, with clay based reading material for you...

I've been playing around with a technique called Mokume Gane. Now my very basic understanding of this technique is that it originated with those who made swords for the Samurai's in Japan. Basically the belted sheets of different metal together before making the blade. The process left patterns created by the different coloured metals. Should you wish to correct me on this, go right ahead. ;-)

Basically the process with the clay is multiple layers of coloured clay with a sheet of silver foil between each. Smoosh whatever you can lay your hands on into the stacked sheets and viola! Lufley patterns to play with.

Some tealight holders....these are made from translucent polymer clay and are wrapped around a glass vessel. You don't need the glass but I find that it makes them stronger and less likely to break.