basement quashed

Every time I stand after sitting, or sit after lying, I grow so dizzy and blind.

When I was around the age of eight, my father picked me up for one of our infrequent weekend visits. Driving to his house, an hour away through silver grass and dark pines, he told me he had for me a surprise, for my birthday, waiting there. His house.
Of course I demanded to know what it was; but no, it was a surprise, though he did urge me to guess what it might be.
"Well it could be anything! Give me a clue."
"Okay then. Umm.. it's always wet."
Immediately I guessed, what else could it be? Pet fish.
But he was so excited, so happy to be surprising me with this marvellous birthday gift, to guess correctly first try would be a heinous crime. How did an eight year old in a pink-spotted ruffle skirt know this? I played the game,
"Is it a swimsuit?"
"No. Bathers aren't wet when you're not swimming in them!"
"Oh yeah! Is it a bath toy?"
"No. Bath toys are presents for two-year-olds!"
"Oh yeah! Is it.. umm.. Golly gosh dad, I just can't guess!"
etc etc etc for an hour-long car ride etc.

Well, it was pet fish. Three Comet goldfish in a too-small aquarium.
"Ohh.. of course! Always wet! Can I take them home?"
"Well.. No."

(Incidentally, this was one of my father's favourite tricks: to buy himself something and pretend it was for you. I dimly recall, in the hallway of the pink-carpeted home we all shared till I was seven, a garish painting of three rainbow lorikeets perching in a various-posed row, an anniversary gift for mumm which he took with him when he left, leaving a much preferred by all slightly less-pale pink un-hole on the wall. Mumm's sunglasses, a birthday gift, which went missing around the same time he left with the painting, I noticed perched on his decently-sized nose on another of those infrequent weekend visits.)

"What kinda fishs are they?" So I could tell all my Catholic-school friends.
"Well," he grinned. "Those two are goldfish, obviously, and that one's a silverfish."
"Cool!"

A week later, telling all my Catholic-school friends about my amazing three new fishs, my third grade teacher overheard.
"That's great, Jessie! What kinda fish did you get?"
"I gots two goldfishs and a silverfish!"

She smirked. "Well, they would all be goldfish, dear. Some are just silver in colour."
"Nuh-uh! My dad said. Two goldfishs and a silverfish!"
"Ha ha!" Ha'd some unmemorable Catholic-school unfriend. "You're dumb! Your dad's dumb!"
"Silverfish, ha ha! That's a kinda worm!" Ha'd another.
"Nuh-uh! My dad is not dumb. He's a policeman."
"Dumb! Silverfish dumb!"

At that point our Catholic-school teacher made us all bend over to smack us on the bum with the blackboard ruler.

This all came flashing back recently because! I have a new 38 litre aquarium. 983465 yays!
After running it fishless for a week, on the advice of the grandmotherly petstore lady, I ran out and bought two goldfish.
A few days later one developed White Spot (Ich). I ran back to the petstore and bought medication, applying it to the whole aquarium on the advice of another grandmotherly petstore lady.
It's a few days later. Both fishs are dead.
I am so sad.

I had two lectures in a row in the same theatre yesterday, so after the first one ended and everyone swarmed towards the two tiny doors at the front I sat and waited for the next one to begin. There is a ten-minute gap between classes. The girl behind me did the same. Ten minutes later a handful of people had drifted in one by one and were waiting. Five minutes into what was supposed to have been a sociology lecture the girl behind me tapped me on the shoulder and whispered "This is SY1001, isn't it?" I had tilted my head back to look at her upside down but still managed to nod. After another five minutes I took out my timetable to check, because lecturers are never late, but the lecture was there. The right theatre, the right time. I sat and stared at the timetable for another five minutes until I noticed that this particular lecture was only scheduled for week 19, when the rest were scheduled for weeks 8-21. I turned around and shouted (which, for me, involves talking above a mumble) "does anyone have a timetable?" No one did. So I told them there was no lecture and walked out, feeling REALLY STUPID, but that's okay because everyone else there was stupid too, and at least I thought to PRINT OUT A TIMETABLE.



The other week/month Lila was vomiting all over the place. As soon as she ate she'd puke a billion times, and instead of jumping all over me and attempting to rip my face off every time I went outside she'd just lie there for an hour & then docilely amble over & put her head on my foot. So I took her to the vet. The vet probed her in 50 different ways & said he couldn't feel any obstructions & had she had all her shots? Has she eaten anything strange? "She eats everything strange," I said, she eats EVERYTHING. I PICK TICKS OFF HER AND THROW THEM AWAY AND SHE FUCKING EATS THEM. And then I remembered that two days before, she'd picked up a huge chunk of plastic wrap while I was walking her and swallowed it whole. So he was all "well take her home & don't feed her & if she's still sick tomorrow we'll have to gut her which is heapsnexpensive." And then I forgot my PIN while paying by EFTPOS, but anyway she got better. The next day she ate a whole dead decomposing stinky WORMY BIRD, FEATHERS, FEET, BEAK & ALL.

Then, another day, I was on the esplanade and I thought I saw some strange girl walking her, which is totally weird because she's a freaky looking mongrel. So I finally realised it was some other dog who just looked like Lila, & I jumped up & ran over & said "what kinda dog is that?" and she smiled patronisingly and said "it's a husky cross rottweiler," like she got asked all the time, because I GET ASKED ALL THE TIME when walking Lila 'cause she looks like a husky & then like a doberman & then like an alsation. Anyway, I said "omfg! I have the same dog!" and she was like "oooo!" and I said "did you get him from Cairns Central?" and she said "No, we got him from the owners 'cause we knew them but they did take the rest to Cairns Central." and I was all "Wow! I have your dog's sister!" So we compared their personalities, and WHY DID I HAVE TO GET THE MANIAC FREAKAZOID ONE? Hers was all quiet and nice. But he looked more like a rottweiler than Lila does, which is uglier, 'cause her face is all pointy and nice.

Chloe is my other dog & she's a big fat border collie & is lovelie & perfect except she likes to attack little kids who pat her, & she once ripped open my neighbour's leg as he dived into the pool, which wasn't her fault 'cause she's a SHEEPDOG & it's INSTINCT for her to chase diving things.



THINGS I REMEMBER FROM BEING SEVEN:
- Getting the newly-painted-pink second-hand bike for my birthday and dad taking me to the football oval to learn to ride it.
- Having the kiddie train carriage behind me jacknife & land on my head & then being rushed to hospital while yelling "no I don't wanna go I wanna ride the train again!"
- Staying out in the playground with my friends after the end-of-lunch bell until our teacher came looking for us and lined us up the front of the classroom and told us to bend over so he could wack us on the butt with his big black-board ruler BUT HE ONLY PRETENDED TO WACK US.
- Mumm giving me my first Enid Blyton book which was "The Enchanted Wood" and since then I'VE READ EVERY SINGLE ONE.
- The evil babysitter who gave us dry toast and water as a snack and let her daughter beat us up and then yelled at us for complaining about it.
- My dad coming home drunk from a policeman's party at which he won a meat platter in a raffle and he left the meat platter out on the porch all night long and when mumm & my sister & I came home from visiting my nanna we found the meat platter there all rotten with flies.
- Going fishing on the ocean with my friend Michelle with the curly white hair & her big brother, & I caught a shark, & the brother said "it's only a baby, throw it back," and I said no! I caught it it's mine! and the rest of the day every time the boat rocked I thought it was the mother shark coming to attack us & save her baby.
- I used to stuff the sandwiches my mumm made me for lunch under my bed, & I came home one day & there was a huge grey rat lying dead at the front door, & dad said "I found that under your bed eating those mouldy sandwiches" & ever since then I've had a fear of rats under my bed so I would never put my feet down in case the rats bit them.

My parents got divorced when I was nine, and I was happy.

GRAMMAR MISTAKES THAT REALLY PISS ME OFF:
- When people say "might of" rather than "might have."
- When people use "whom" just to use it because hardly anyone knows how to use it and they want to seem like they know how to use it. HERE'S A TRICK SO YOU KNOW WHEN TO USE IT, IT'S EASY: Use "who" when it goes with "he," and "whom" when it goes with "him." For example: He is speaking and Who is speaking go together, and To whom am I speaking and To him am I speaking/I am speaking to him go together. GET IT? IT'S NOT THAT HARD IS IT?
- Semi-colons. You can't just eradicate them because you don't know how to use them, and you can't just use them in place of commas for the sake of using them.
- Sarah and I. "AND ME" IS NOT ALWAYS INCORRECT. You wouldn't say "That pie is for I" (well, ghostlight would), so don't say "That pie is for Sarah and I."
- The use of "his or her" over and over and OVER and over. While not a mistake, it's still FUCKING ANNOYING. You can use "their" as an asexual pronoun, despite it being plural, IT'S WIDELY ACCEPTED AND NOW CONSIDERED GRAMMATICALLY CORRECT. EVEN JANE AUSTIN DID IT. There are entire WEBSITES dedicated to it.
- whose and who's. whose is possessive, who's is the same as it's. IT'S A CONTRACTION. WHO'S IS NOT POSSESSIVE.

I'm hungry. Time to go get fish & chips.