The most wonderful Wordgirl emailed me recently, asking me to recommend a good book about Australia and its origins.
I had no fucking idea. For someone so smart, sometimes I'm pretty dumb. I texted my friend Naomi and she text back "The Fatal Shore" by Robert Hughes. Of course I've never read it, so I Wikiepedia-ed it.
I've had a slew of Australia-related questions lately .... what is Vegemite, ummmm, what's a good Australia book, .... what is Vegemite ......
Now, I know I'm woefully behind in reading and commenting on blogs, I am a rude arse. But I vowed to blog every day and I've been so hectic and the baby has been up every night at 12.30am, 1am, 3am, 3.30am ... etc. And then I'm up and walking around in the day wondering what life means and I look at Dave and think wow, your hair is so dark and thick right now, amazing. I'm applying for jobs and cooking meals and trying to parent Tim properly. I need to help Max with his homework which I haaaaaaate, and I'm on the hunt to find a decent care provider for the baby because the term "working from home" does NOT occur when the baby is crawling around the house in search of donuts. And danger. And I need to earn some serious money, because my whole freelancing plan fell apart last year, coincidentally on the exact same day Dave walked in the house and said the immortal words .... "Hon, what's lymphoma?"
I'm going to finish my every day blogging thing if it kills me. and it is. It's 11.22pm ..... time for the Crying Baby Show any minute, bless him.
So do you have any questions about Australia? Or Australians? Like, me, for example? The last time I asked for questions was about a year ago ..... nobody asked me a darn thing. Not one thing. So embarrassing. PLEASE ask me something. Anyone? Bueller? I'll totally talk my answer out re-ally slowly in a Vlog. Using my non-existent accent.