The House I Live In

In front of the hairy green and purple cushions we purchased on the ‘hairy cushion bender’ a couple of weeks ago, we stand snapping our fingers and waving our arms. Our general flailing takes place on the red rug that neither of us particularly like, but we decided upon due to its mutually despicable texture, whilst the Countdown theme tune fills the space around us. Sidney the curly bamboo plant on the book shelf looks at us with disgust as he continues to try to read about atomic annihilation and the suchlike. We are interrupting his daily ritual. Bamboo plants have this thing for nuclear war.

‘The creative process is hard,’ I’m yelling, ‘the creative process is hard!’. We snap our fingers harder as the time counts down and we jig vigorously in a little circle on the living room floor. The workers in the lingerie shop below us lean over the counter to their customers and cock their eyebrows upwards- that’s the kinda thing, y’know? All over your face.

I’m snapping my fingers and a thought is materialising. ‘I salivate… I salivate… I salivate… milkshake…’



And it’s there! But it’s all that I have. I can only salivate milkshake. The initial joy subsides into sheer disappointment. The tension is unbearable, so I go for a wee. I sit on the toilet and you sit on the step outside the door and we look at each other, clicking our fingers. I salivate milkshake. Coincidentally I wee Don Simon breakfast juice.

Back on the red rug we are snapping our fingers and I comment that I like how our house still smells like a holiday home and all of a sudden I am salivating milkshake for malnourished pensioners. Huzzah! We do a victory dance. The fog has cleared and the aeroplane of bizarre metaphorical yarns has landed.

I tell you that I can feel my teeth too much and you laugh. ‘The creative process is hard’, I yell, though it’s always worth it in the end.


21 thoughts on “The House I Live In

  1. Wow, Anna, didn’t realize Yesterday was Your Birthday

    Happy Birthday Anna!!

    Than makes you annnnn Aries? My Nephew’s Bday was April 8th

    I shall now Consult a Random Aries Zodiac Information Site;

    Your element: Fire

    Your ruling planets: Mars

    Symbol: The Ram

    Your stone: Ruby

    Life Pursuit: The thrill of the moment

    Vibration: Enthusiastic

    Aries Secret Desire: To lead the way for others.

    Aries are fire signs and those born under this element are regarded in astrology as adventurous, active and outgoing. For The Rest You Can Go To This Random Site That I Went To, Lol

    Sincerely though, Happy Birthday… That makes youuuu 22? Lol



    1. Thanks MaximumWage! I often yell it whilst banging my head against the wall. It’s never failed me so far!


    1. Thanks Michael!

      P.S It’s my birthday, and according to the rules that I might have just made up, the entire internet community owes me cake.


    2. Yay cake! Some people would say I have eaten too much cake today. And I say to these heathens, that until I fall into a Diabetic coma, there is no thing as too much cake.

      To the cake mobile!


  2. I think salivating milshake would make me feel my teeth too much. It sounds like if it wasn’t for the malnourished pensioners, we might have missed our insanity this week, so Huzzah indeed! I really liked, “that’s the kinda thing, y’know? All over your face.” :)


    1. Thanks Anne! This is essentially a description of how ‘The Exaggeration Monster’ came to be alive… I would be nowhere without my boyfriend to click my fingers with, or Sidney to look at us with his diapproving, bamboo-like face.


    2. Ah great! That totally makes sense then. I actually noticed the similarity between the milkshake and the “big as a house. A house?” Which I guess is a testimony to the strange things I notice.

      And so…

      OMG! It’s your birthday! I’m in an absolute state of it’s-time-to-bake-Anna’s-cake panic! I raced to the refrigerator, but I knew THAT was a waste of time!

      You see, I found a special finger cake recipe. It requires the fingers of starfish people who can only be found in Atlantis or in episodes of Spongebob Squarepants, but those latter I’m sure you can see are very difficult to extract. So I had to go to Atlantis. The importance here is that if you eat finger cakes made with these fingers, your own fingers can re-grow themselves, which seemed like the perfect birthday present for you!

      Atlantis is underwater. Well, ha! With a degree in history, you probably studied a lot more about that than I did. Anyway, that’s all cool and everything, but unlike Sandy the Squirrel, I don’t breathe underwater very well anymore, not since they fused my gills closed to make me “fit in”. So I drowned. I’m pretty important, because I am in my stories, so they sent divers after my body, but they didn’t think the fingers were important, so I had to cut their lines. I extracted the fingers from an unsuspecting Atlantean starfish person, too busy with hermaphroditic copulation to notice me, and I escaped. But being dead, the crabs began devouring my flesh. The destiny of it was all clear to me. It was a sacrifice I had to make to save the fingers.

      Crabs devouring your flesh makes walking underwater difficult. Fortunately, I remembered the East Australian Current, which I was surprised to learn from a small blue fish I think was on drugs, is much closer to Atlantis than I originally thought. So I caught a ride to Sydney. Awkward. I don’t live in Sydney.

      It was several weeks before I could find someone who would pack me into a suitcase and fly me back to California. I kept worrying the fingers would spoil, but they didn’t. Finally, I convinced someone I was part of a scientific experiment to prevent the zombie apocalypse, and I was quickly packed and whisked to a lab not far from my home. The fingers made it safely to the refrigerator just in time, which brings me back to the waste of time.

      I raced to the refrigerator to get the fingers and start your cake. Yeah, they were gone. The yogurt ate them. I’m pretty sure it was the yogurt because it’s growing fingers. Maybe. It’s growing something. It looks like fingers, but it could be a retro 1970s hairdo. I don’t trust yogurt.

      So, I’m sorry. I had to make your finger cake without the special digit-regenerating genes of the starfish people. The only fingers I had were mine. I lovingly cut them off, but I’m afraid the crabs didn’t leave me much to work with, so your finger cake isn’t as special as I wanted it to be. I was really sad. And then I realized I had no idea how to get it to you. I became depressed and despondent. So I kind of ate it. The good news is it didn’t cure my depression.

      Happy birthday!


    3. I’m not even joking when I say this… that was literally – LITERALLY – the greatest birthday story I have ever heard. EVER! I read it in my inbox and then had to come on my page just to read it again. Your cake endeavours make nibbling on the remnants of your fingers even sweeter! Tonight I shall toast a toast, with toast, to depression… to fantastically dark stories and the ever-wonderful awesomeness of toast.

      And I don’t know if I ever told you this, but I actually love SpongeBob SquarePants. You, missy, have made my day :D


  3. Lol, Hilarious… I can totally Picture Sidney the curly bamboo plant, distracted and discouraged by your Constant “Snapping” and “Milk Shake Making”, lol

    Nice Piece Anna



    1. Thanks DarkJade! Sidney has learned to tolerate our snapping and general tomfoolery. Thanks to my History degree, he also has plenty of atomic bomb books to get through, so he’s alright for the time being :)


    2. Hi Anna, This is just a Test, The People at Akismet say I shouldn’t be Blocked… If this shows up, You can Delete it, Hee Hee



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