Best and Worst of your week, the clue is in the title.
Let’s have a chat…
I have been rubbing shoulders with all kinds of people in high places.
This week I got to spend some quality time with two people I admire greatly.
The first was our very own Mia Freedman, who of course, I see strolling around the headquarters here, often in some great outfit that I know I could never pull off. Mia and I might share a small joke and a basic “hello”, but then it’s back to work as usual.
But yesterday had a bit of a twist, Mia kindly offered her time and I interviewed her for my radio show on 2XX Canberra.
Also on the same day, I got friendly with ABC’s Richard Glover while I played sidekick to Editor-in-Chief of Mamamia, Jamila who was a guest on his Drive program.
Ever since I heard him rant about his memories of going to the local swimming pool on one of his Thank God it’s Friday segments, where he described the changing rooms being “impregnated by tinea” and the pool manager was “armed with a whistle and a hatred for children”, I became addicted to his wit and storytelling.
He and I briefly chatted about Catlin Moran, the very trendy Mamamia head office décor and I so badly wanted to energetically say to him, “I’m on radio too Richard!! Let’s bond over this! Let’s become best friends! Heck, let’s do a double act… C’mon Rich, I’ll be your best friend!”
Australia has produced some really great personalities, and I feel very fortunate to have met some of these individuals.
Pusskins is being a dick again.
For those of you who don’t know about Mr Pusskins, he’s the surrogate love-cat I share with my boyfriend. Pusskins, or as I call him Smooshkins, was rescued from the RSPCA a few months ago and came into the home with his adorable little white boots, bushy possum tail and sweet nature, as though his little kitty mouth was telling us, “thank you for saving me from that hellhole of a share house, where the interior was sterile and enclosed. I slept in a room amongst ferals and strays, I hated it there. I’m ever so grateful. Meow.”
Lately, every time I call him over for a bit of companionship he does this annoying thing where he tip-toes toward me, stops about a foot away and turns his head like he’s too good for me.
Then when I go up to pat him, he sprints away like kitty litter through my fingertips. He’s taunting me, exploiting my affection and abusing the fact that my love is so strong for this guy, I’ll keep coming back no matter what – is this how parents of teenagers feel?
Whatevs. I’ve always considered myself a dog person anyway
On My Mind:
Why don’t we call the number eleven, onety-one?
Over to you!
What’s your best and worst for the week?