Oh, how I want to be at Moorabbin.....

Day one of Martie's move is happening tomorrow!! Hurrah. And you know what that means?? A celebratory vodka after all my hard yakka? Actually no, tomorrow I'm not actually moving anything. It means - I've got the day off work!! Ding!

But that's not the most exciting part: My beloved St Kilda is playing for a spot in the GF - I've got deja vu' from last year. GO BOYS!! Except for you Milne. You can just fuck right off. You were a fucktard at Springvale, and you're a fucktard at St Kilda and if I ever see you at the Tudor again, I will tell you that you are a fucktard to your face.

Oh, sorry, ranting a bit there. Back to the topic at hand. How is my itinerary looking for tomorrow? Well, I'm going to be a busy little Martie...

9am (or thereabouts): Get up. Put washing on.

10am: Go to bank, get bank cheque

11am: Go to real estate agent. Pay some mofo's mortgage my way to the poverty line first month's rent.

11:30am: Go looking for a COUCH.
Of course, I want something like this:



But inevitably, on my budget, I will end up with something like this:


I think I will have to make use of some folding chairs in there until I save a bit more money...


Scared is not normally a word in my vocabulary. But I am a bit scared. I'm at the Mothership's tonight, to (attempt to) clean up my room so I can get my bed out, and I found a whole lot of Ex-Fucker stuff. Valentine's Day cards, photos, letters and the like. And I'm kinda scared that I'm doing this without him. This was always our dream, always what we wanted to do.

However, I've got to look forward, and I will be strong, and I am getting on with my life. I'm totally head over heels with the Jungle Boy, and I think it's more a sentimental thing than anything else. I'm also a little sad because I am leaving the olds (as much as they piss me off sometimes). Sure, I've done it heaps before, and I've not been here for the last nine months, however, it now seems final, and I seem grown up and old, and the next thing you know, I won't be able to wear sparkly masks to crappy nightclubs anymore and I'll be rootin' a young'uns in the over 28's carpark....Ughhh. Drama. Queen.

I think my excitement is winning out though. My utilities are connected tomorrow, I've got my VERY OWN PHONE NUMBER (Ok, clearly I'm not getting out much) and I've got a intercom-buzzy-thing to play with. I'm jizzy already.

But I need a COUCH. I need a COUCHY COUCH COUCH COUCH.

Can you see me (and obviously, the 'girls') reclining on this?:


Or perhaps something a little more refined like this?:


Or can you see Jungle Boy & I getting up to some ac-tionnnnnnnne on this?:


Decisions, decisions. I hope the Salvos have some of this gear tomorrow!!!

And just wait until I get around to buying a new bed...

And finally a community service announcement for all: Try to stay off the roads on Saturday. I've hired a moving van:

Should prove to be very interesting.

Oh when the Saints, Oh when the Saints.....