Making a Contribution

Like most humans with an internet connection, I enjoy browsing the websites Damn You, Autocorrect! and Lamebook. The former explores the perils of not double checking your text messages; the latter is simply a celebration of the sometimes clever, often trite and mostly laughably stupid things people say on Facebook.

I've often wondered if I'd ever stumble across or inadvertently cause something to occur that could justify an entry into one of these websites. I never thought I would have justified entries for both occur on the same day.

Late Monday night, I was searching online stores for a BOSU, a piece of exercise equipment my personal trainer Jon makes me use. An acronym for "Both Sides Up", it's basically half a fitball attached to a board. It's great to use for stepping exercises, as the inflated side means a lower impact on your knees (I've always had bad knees). You can also use it as a balance board. I know, I know, as Girl Clumsy I have no need for balance training, but it's nice to have the option there.

I found a proper BOSU online at Optomo for a decent price, which included free shipping. Having recently paid down my credit card (bless you, tax return), I clicked and bought it. I was expecting delivery to take days, if not a week or so - but then my doorbell rang around 2pm yesterday and there it was!

Excited, I texted Jon. "Omg! I ordered a bosu at midnight and it just got delivered."

He didn't reply. I thought that was slightly odd, as I'd been expecting Jon to be excited by my purchase. All became clear though later when I messaged him on Twitter about the new arrival. This was his reply:

Obviously his silence was some sort of acceptance that I'm just freaky enough to be a part of some male-order mail-order scheme.

The other outstanding contribution to the internet comes from the Facebook event page for my How To Be A Man audition. This show - based on the John Birmingham/Dirk Flinthart book and adapted by the erudite Simon Bedak - finishes the trilogy after He Died with a Felafel in His Hand and The Tasmanian Babes Fiasco, and will play at the Brisbane Arts Theatre in November/December.

The audition pages lists the criteria for potential cast members, including a general age guide of 18 to 40. Now sometimes I really just loathe Facebook - but sometimes I admit it does provide comedy gold like this:

And now, I will await a call from playwright Simon Bedak demanding I cast that 14-year-old kid...