I'm not so hot Down Under

After my disastrous experience at the recent step classes, (see previous blog entry, "It's warm Down Under") I decided not to let my lack of coordination rule my life and shatter my confidence, so I gave a dance class another go.
What a success that was! I was by far the most coordinated, firmest and fittest of them all! All the other ladies could not stop staring at me! I stood out!
It did pop into my mind that choosing a "dance class for Senior" would be a little bit like cheating and I was bound to be noticed for being the only lady under 70 years old, but hey! I needed a confidence boost! And what better place to go than a dance class full of great-grandmothers?
 No firm butts there, guaranteed. And not many coordinated dancers either, to be honest.
For once, I appeared to be the only one who still remembered the difference between turning right or left and the simple fact that my boobs didn't slap the laminate floor at each jump, filled me with utter joy.
In fact, I was so full of joy that I added some free style break dance moves to my dance routine. Just to show off the power of my young-ish ligaments.

These days I have a lot of time in my hands. A little too much. I try to fill those long boring hours by doing every thing I possibly can.
I took up gardening. For an entire day. Then I rememberd that Australia's back gardens are home of the deadliest spiders in the world, so I bought plastic plants and started looking after them, instead.
It was fun for a while, but then after watering them every night, they somehow started to rot and the fun stopped.
I stumbled upon the world of loyalty cards. That has been way more successful.
Every day I fill in forms, after forms, after forms.
 And after several months spent in Australia, I have more loyalty cards than friends. In fact I discovered that those plastic cards are, indeed, more loyal than most friends.
I collect points when I buy cucumbers. I collect points when I make phone calls (not many points collected so far: I have no friends, therefore I have no one to call). I collect points when I recommend a friend (zero points so far, see above) , I collect points when I sleep, when I poo, when I breathe, I collect points for swearing! (millions of fucking points for that).
I even collect points when I buy fuel, which is not very rewarding because, since I don't drive, I don't buy fuel...but one day I might take up driving! And when that happens, I already have a loyalty card!
What I love the most about loyalty cards is that each of them includes a monthly statement.
I love receiving statements! Every morning I wait by the window and when I see the friendly-faced postman approaching, I run towards him and hug him. He has never, so far, returned my hugs, but that might just be because of the cultural barrier.

Strangely, I noticed that the postman no longer comes daily to my house. I know in my heart that this has got nothing to do with the fact that I force him to hug me, every time he delivers the mail.
I know it must be because of the Government cuts. They are cutting the salaries of those friendly postmen! So they only deliver half of the post and they only deliver to the houses located closer to their offices. I don't blame them. It's not their fault. It is MY fault for not living closer to the Post Office.
Since these days I receive my post just once every other month when I'm lucky, when I actually receive something, it is a great reason to celebrate and be jolly.
When I get to the the mail box and I find a statement addressed to me, I scream :"Someone looooooves me!". I say that very loud, so that my neighbours hear me and they believe I'm a very popular person and I have someone who loves me.
Actually, what am I saying? I do have someone who loves me. I was told just the other day.
Someone knocked at my door and I literally jumped out of bed to open it. I could not believe I could finally  talk to a living creature who had no wings nor ariels, for once, ! I had to take this precious opportunity quickly!
It was a Jehovah Witness. He looked at me and said: "Jesus is your friend. Jesus loves you".
 I was so happy. I knew there was someone out there who loved me!
 I asked the man if Jesus was willing to keep me company. He said:" Jesus is always with you". I asked if Jesus was willing to fill forms with me. He gave me a bad look and left. I guess Jesus does not believe in  reward schemes.Go figure.