Table building for hopeless cases

I have borrowed three books about woodwork because it seems that I can't even remember the basics.

The picture is of a coffee table I made that has black velvet underneath a glass top. Forgive the tacky velvet effect and the strangely positioned legs, I was a teenager and thought it was cool. Actually, I still think the velvet is cool, so maybe I shouldn't be so hard on myself. Anyway, these days, I'm sad to say that I look at timber and just draw blanks. In fact, I went into Bunnings to see what they had in stock and I buckled under the pressure of having all the men (there were no women to be seen) stare at me. A few of them looked as if they were going to come over to see if I was lost. So I made a very quick note of what I wanted to use and I bolted. Because, in truth, I was lost. I knew what kind of wood I wanted, but there is no way I could have named a cut or even explained what I was trying to do.

What am I trying to do? I have no idea. I started off thinking I'd make some planter boxes for my garden, but now I'm starting to think 'just make a table. An outdoors table so if it's rubbish it doesn't matter'.

I think that's a rather good idea. If it goes horribly wrong, I'll tear it apart and build the planters. And pretend it never happened.

I'm looking forward to settling on a design, changing it, breathing in sawdust and the inevitable sense of contentment at the end. Wood does that to people. There are also books on woodcarving at work, but I'll take one craft project at a time. I'm planning the novel, thesis and a trip to Vietnam (hooray! I'm going to travel again!), so I think I might need to watch what I take on.

My wonderful mother who drives me crazy

I feel that the following emails will explain a lot.
The first is from me to my parents.
The second was quite seriously written by my mother.

1 Feb 2009:

Hi parents,

I went for an elephant ride yesterday. Our mahout jumped off, and
our elephant decided to go in the river. So there we were in the
middle of a river with our mahout laughing at us from the bank.
I was slightly worried until I realised that riding elephants should be in my blood.
So I hopped off the seat and went and sat on his head which was great. I
also got punched in the thigh by a street kid because Mr G refused to
buy me a rose. It was pretty funny.

Mr G also got attacked and hugged by a baby who was quite taken with his
blonde arm hair.

Today is a quiet day, we're going to see if we can go out to some caves now.
I attached some photos.

love from Miss A.


2 Feb 2009:

Felicitations oh wayward daughter,
I was relived to hear that you are still with us.

However it must be noted that, outwardly at least, you have once
again failed to maintain the self restraint and decorum expected of
someone of your age and lineage. May I remind you that you are
embarking on holy pilgrimage. Cast your mind on matters spiritual
and curb that look of extreme irreverence and unwholesome levity
that I witness in every image.

(Pardon my ignorance but are all the elephants tiny or just the
ones you were permitted to ride?)

I genuflect before St Afra with my Rosary clenched in my hands
asking that you be assisted in your quest.


Your prudent and devoted Mother

This is either a valid rant, or I have wedding envy.

Weddings. They are EVERYWHERE. Ordinarily I would say 'awww' and get all mushy, but recently they have started to really annoy me.

Gripe one: I got a second round invite to a wedding.

If I am invited to a wedding as a back-up/reserve/2nd round guest, then in general, I will happily say no. This is because I do not have the money to pay to travel to a wedding (they all seem to be held well out of Melbourne these days), pay for a gift that isn't crap and buy something to wear. I also don't want to use my precious annual leave or waste a day of my weekend watching two people I have no opinion on get married. I'm very close to the people I do have an opinion on. In fact, I speak to them quite a bit. I'd be expecting that if they did second round me, at least they'd tell me about it. And at least they would have the brains to change the RSVP date before posting the invite.

To be honest, I was less concerned about the second round invite thing, and more worried about the fact that I haven't spoken to them in over 5 years and they still invited me. I don't even like the bride! And they know that! Why on earth would they invite me? Was I meant to look feral and make the bride look nicer by comparison? Do they have any idea how much I drink when I'm somewhere I don't want to be? Was that the point? Was I supposed to get drunk and maul the best man, thus making drunk Uncle Carl look sober by comparison? I will never know...

Second gripe: Lame wedding gifts.

I am the lowest paid librarian at my organisation (fair enough, because I'm also the newest and the one with the least amount of experience). This means that I don't have the money to spend $60 on hand towels. I would spend that much on a present, but forking over that much cash for tiny tiny towels makes me throw up.

Besides, hand towels aren't really going to make you remember your special day, unless I write 'Loved the wedding, sorry for what I did to your sister, no hard feelings' on them. Message to everyone: Do something better than a boring gift registry or it's a green light for me to do what I want.

Gripe three: Doubts.

During a few of the weddings I've attended, I thought 'This is not going to end well'. The cynicism isn't entirely my fault. One woman has only ever been with her now husband (missing out on soooo much). Another woman is clearly in love with someone else, but enjoys the flashy social circle her husband is part of. I have no problem with these women getting married, but it does make me kind of 'bleh'. I would never date someone who's never been in a relationship before. What a nightmare! Anyone I date should be old enough to have had a few girlfriends who will have done the bulk of the relationship training.* As for the second woman, people can be in love with more than just one person, but stupid things like hanging out with b-grade celebs shouldn't really influence a relationship. Unless you were getting to hang out with Dr. McKay. Or Sam Worthington.

*A relationship trained boyfriend is one that doesn't freak out when you ask him to buy you tampons, tells you that you are pretty AND smart, doesn't comment on how hot your best friend is and doesn't use Lynx. Of course, I have been trained to realise when I am being emotional for no reason at all (see previous post for an excellent example of hysteria without a valid cause), to not rave on about how amazing my male friends are, and to use the power of blogging to vent.