Brief as I'm on my way out the door to work and my phone can't even save photos let alone get on teh internets:

- dropped the black kitten off at the vet yesterday morning after sitting up practically all night with him... got maybe half an hour's sleep total. he's gorgeous. All the fluids I gave him worked because he looked a little better and had a scruff at the back of his neck as opposed to taut dry skin that he had before. They said he looked fairly healthy so fingers crossed that he gets better. I think he has a bit of fighting spirit to have made it this far and not have collapsed yet. I'm just worried that he'll end up having some horrible disease or take a turn for the worse and he'll be put down... but I suppose that at least he was loved for the last days of his life (if he doesn't survive beyond, say, this week).

I asked about the other kitten (while trying not to start bawling) and he was still alive, but not in good shape. I don't want to know, really. I feel so awful about it. What if I had gone over there on Monday? would a day have made a difference? what if the neighbours had said something earlier? I guess I can play these games forever. My head says I did everything I could have in the time I had to give them some care. My heart says otherwise. THIS IS WHY I COULD NEVER BE A VET. I don't know how Sarah does it.

The little one is now sitting on my chest purring.... *melts*

So I started my new job today. It was good. Busy and tiring but good. I am enjoying using my brain again.

Yesterday the guy next door came over and asked if any of my cats had had kittens. I explained that as they were desexed they couldn't and he said he had found two kittens in the backyard - heard them meowing when it last rained (so a couple of weeks ago - WTF couldn't he have said something earlier??). Anyway so I said he should take them to the Lort Smith or whatever and if he couldn't then I would.

So of course when I got home today Mum said that he had come back asking me to take the kittens to the Lort Smith. I went over there to get them and in a mango box were these two lumps of lethargic skin and bone. One was black and white and one was white with a couple of black splotches. Both were ridden with fleas, emaciated, anaemic (from the fleas) and dehydrated. Fuck knows where the mum cat is. The black one was definitely more lively than the white one who was so sick I got my sister (vet nurse) to take him to the local vet to see if they could inject subcutaneous fluids (Sarah could do it if we had sterile water) or at least try SOMETHING to save him. According to the vet they look to be about 4 weeks old. I love animals but I have little idea how to take care of very very young ones; everything I have learned has been from reading cat forums or, as a child, my obsession with dog books. I always wanted to be a vet, from as young as I can remember till I was about 14 and my interest in science waned, but it's times like these I know I couldn't have handled it. I'm pretty blase when dealing with abused and neglected children and their negligent fuckups of parents that pop up all too often in my line of work but give me a sick animal and I'll cry my heart out.

Anyway so apart from my fuckhead neighbour leaving these two out in the elements (and it's been all manner of boiling, freezing and soaking wet these past couple of weeks in Melbourne), I did tell him to go to our other next door neighbour's house to ask if they were their kittens. This is the "we don't have any cats" house that has been keeping a feral cat colony healthy enough to churn out litter after litter of kittens for at least the past twenty years, but who they won't desex, vaccinate or take any responsibility for. And who Mum ran into at the local shops buying dry cat food for the cats that aren't theirs and saying, "oh we buy enough for yours too" (no wonder my cats are not losing weight!!). I remember one of their cats having kittens in our shed about fifteen years ago and their toms are always terrorising the neighbourhood. Of course they denied the kittens were theirs but I'd stake my life on the hunch that they are the unfortunate offspring of one of their queens.

The black one is still here and is totally adorable. It's a boy and he's been all sorts of CUTENESS for the last five hours. All I can say is thank Christ Sarah is a vet nurse otherwise I would have had a nervous breakdown. She showed me how to feed him and toilet him and all the rest and gave him half a Capstar (flea tablet) to kill some of the fleas - within half an hour of the tablet being ingested we counted at least ten dead fat fleas on the blanket. I have fed him kitten milk and mushed-up wet food through a syringe and stimulated him to toilet (maybe TMI for some of you). He's asleep at the moment but has had quite a bit of food and drink tonight. When he cries it's this little high-pitched MEEP and he appears to love the sound of his own voice. When he's hungry or thirsty I hear this MEEP! MEEP! and give him some food. So he'll definitely be ok till the morning. I am not going to get a lot of sleep tonight but it's only one night and certainly won't kill me. Tomorrow I'll take him to the vet as they seemed to think that they'd be able to rehome him when he's old enough (if, fingers crossed, he survives) and they run a Kitten Adoption Program. I was going to take him to the Lort Smith tomorrow but there's a good chance he'd end up being put to sleep due to the sheer numbers of kittens they get overrun with, especially at this time of year.

He's currently sleeping on a blanket, a hot water bottle wrapped in towels underneath him, in one of the cat carriers. It's the most comfort he's likely ever had. I only hope he doesn't have ringworm because it's a bitch to get rid of and I'd probably have it and so has everyone who's handled him and maybe it even jumped to my cats (who are BEYOND pissed off with me right now. Oh well it's only one night kids.). It's a good thing I'm not working tomorrow because I'd be a wreck.

Will update on the kitten situation tomorrow. I'm crossing my fingers that the little white one is okay.

In the meantime, here are some photos of the little one (who is now on my chest half-asleep after having some more food after meeping away):

This article and the comments scare the shit out of me. I do have a fear of becoming one of those people even though Australia has been relatively protected from the fallout of the GFC.

Actually my jobhunting is going ok. Have applied for official legal service job and I'm hopeful I'll get an interview. My recruiter got me an interview with a family law specialist who runs her own firm in the city which is happening this Thursday. Still haven't heard about big scary firm interview though my gut feeling is I'll get a rejection letter in the post this week. I don't want to bill 65 units a day anyway. I really really REALLY don't like billable units.

In other news:
- have been engaging in companion planting for my vegie/herb garden with good results so far (well, at least nothing has died, so that counts as a "good result" for me)
- loving the '50s style full-skirted dresses at Target at the moment
- I turned 30 last Thursday
- running 7km a day at the moment
- I go running in shorts above knee length in order to see thighs and remind myself of one of the reasons why I am running
- http://www.fmylife.com/

Three days to go... Have got everything except Uno cards (for plane) and puzzle/crossword book (also for plane). Should I bother taking food on the plane eg. rice crackers, chocolate etc. Will the flight attendants or customs take it off me?

Seriously need to start packing. I have no fucking idea what to take. Think I will pull out all the stuff I want to take and put it on my bed, then halve it, then halve it again. And I need to make room for all the boring stuff eg sleeping bag, plastic plates, first aid kit etc. Mischa has been sleeping in my sleeping bag since I unrolled it so it has cat hair inside it now and she will be devastated when I take it off her! She'll have to choose another sleeping spot out of the sixty million she already has.

I also have no fucking idea what to wear on the plane. I might wear trackies and take something a little more socially acceptable eg skirt, dress, jeans etc in my carry-on seeing as I found out Heathrow has showers and if I can have a shower there that'll fill in at least some of the six-hour wait for our BA flight to Rome... fucking cancelled planes, it was meant to be only an hour or so stopover at Heathrow.

In a week's time I'll be on my way to the airport and then on my way to Rome! Woohoo! Although I can't tell you how much I am not looking forward to the plane ride, I hate hate hate planes and flying and not having any control. Luckily I have a stash of drugs that will ensure I'll be comatose for most of it. I'm also going to take some puzzles (crosswords/Sudoku etc) and plan city itineraries, hopefully that will get my mind off the flying business during the periods I'm awake.

Wish I hadn't read the updated smartraveller information for Turkey though. Oh well. Live and let live I suppose.

Am just waiting for a couple of people we're staying with (well that's the plan) to get back to me about that in some more detail. Relying on other people sucks (damn, I'm turning into a crazy old control freak) but whatever.

Had a massive WIN in court today. It was great because this client actually deserved a bit of good fortune after all the shit he'd been through with his ex partner and the mother of the subject child of the proceedings and he got it. He was so happy he started crying. It's moments like those that make me feel that what I do is worthwhile.

Have got nearly everything I want to take with me. Some stuff I haven't got yet: travel journal, Uno cards, memory card for camera, water purification tablets (not sure if will get), capsicum spray/alarm (again, not sure if will get. Probably a good idea).

There is a shitload *kevin07* of stuff I need to do before I go though. Get hep A vaccination (not necessary but david says it's a good one to have so may as well, organise list of meds am taking (pill, painkillers, migraine tabs, sleeping tabs for plane, anti-nausea just in case, antibiotics again just in case, etc etc), do letter from david re same, photocopy travel docs, email same to self, call airline to find out wtf is ticket (it's been 22 years since I flew international and I know a lot has changed but I am not sure if STA "itinerary" showing am on flight is enough?), get ANZ travel card and load stimulus payment onto same, activate visa debit card when i excavate it from pile of crap in spare room at mum's, book rest of accommodation... ick, am over the organisation. there is a lot to be said for structured fun. Still I imagine the first time is always the hardest and once you know what to do then the subsequent times are a piece of cake.

FYI:
Ziplock bags seem to be very popular amongst the travelling set. They would appear to be a good idea.

****

Am moving on Saturday. Euuugh. Cannot be bothered. I swear the next time I move it will be into my own property.

****

Work is going well. Saw two clients today and retained two so my conversion rate is 100% today. And they were both nice clients who weren't crazy and actually appear to have money which is a nice change from the usual. I start at the closer office full time on Monday so not paying tolls and getting to work in 25 minutes will be a novelty. There's also talk of me doing two days a week in the city office when I get back from my trip and that would be bloody unreal, I would be as happy as the proverbial pig.

I had a minor victory today too. I have a final hearing coming up tomorrow which is listed for two days and which is Victoria Legal Aid (VLA) funded. VLA decide to drop us at the last minute stating my client didn't meet the undue hardship grounds required for overcap funding (there is a cap of $12,000 on all VLA funded family law matters excluding Magellan matters). This matter has only gone over the cap because the mother is a deadshit junkie bitchcunt who deserves to be run over by a Mack truck, but anyway. I ask for a reconsideration which is the next step and uncharted territory for me. The reconsideration is refused and the decision not to fund upheld. Next step is an independent review (also uncharted territory for me) so I ask for that and VLA gets in an independent reviewer on an emergency basis. Write impassioned 5 page email to VLA which takes an hour and a half on a Friday afternoon with specific regard to the VLA/Commonwealth guidelines which turns more into a rant. Get a call this afternoon stating the reviewer has overturned VLA's decision to refuse funding and I get my full two days funded on the basis that my reasonings on behalf of my client were sufficiently compelling to decide in his favour. The VLA officer told me on the phone it's rare to have a decision overturned too. so it's win fucking win all round. I may have said this before but this particular VLA client is not the typical lazy, selfish, thoroughly repellent VLA client who expects everyone to help them but won't help themselves and whinges at the first sign of things not going 100% their way. I love "fighting" for clients I like (rare) and this review had me worried all weekend so I'm really pleased things have worked out. I am now crossing my fingers hoping that the mother won't turn up and he'll get his orders on an undefended basis, which is what we would have got last June had the mother not turned up and put on a show for everyone.

I can't sleep again; a combination of being excited about my trip, mentally listing things to do before moving home on Saturday, a bit bouncy about the work stuff, and my unfortunately not infrequent inability to sleep.

Housemate is moving home to mummy and daddy so she can clear her debts to go to uni next year (to do teaching). I can't really talk because I am probably now going to do the exact same thing. Although I don't plan to go back to uni (not full time anyway - how do you spell "torture"?) but I plan on (a) clearing my own debts and (b) buying property within the next two years and the only way I can do it is to go home and save like a demon or win Tattslotto. Obviously the latter will never happen, not least because I don't buy Tattslotto tickets, so it's on with the former. I am clearly insane because my mad alcoholic parents drive me crazy but whatever, if I don't want to be living there broke and desperate in my 40s I had better use my late 20s and early 30s as preventative medication.

Yes and I am thinking of doing my LLM by coursework, probably at Monash in the city and probably part time so it should take me about four years. What the fuck, I said I was never ever going to do any more study. Never say never to an indecisive Libran. Maybe not next year, maybe 2011 or 2012. Or even wait until I'm at the Bar so I have lots of flexibility. I think my work contract provides me with study leave after five years but I am not keen on being in the one job for that long so that probably won't eventuate.

I need a new five-year plan I think. It will involve the abovementioned plus doing some more travelling and maybe living overseas for a bit.

I recall having a "list of things I want to do by 30/in five years' time" which I think Elise has. I don't speak to Elise anymore due to the Great Competitive Fuckwittage of 2006 so I am going off my memory:

1. Get motorbike licence - tick. When (not if) I am working in the city I'll buy a bike or scooter but for now, Melbourne is not Milan or Venice or Rome and the traffic is scary enough in a car let alone on a bike.
2. Get law degree - tick
3. Advance with career - tick, though what sort of path I am going to take to get where I want to be (barrister/magistrate/judge) remains to be seen.
4. Find nice single man and make him unsingle - cross for every dropkick I have met/snogged/shagged/dated who has felt threatened and emasculated by what I do for a living since late 04/early 05. Would it be easier just being someone's wifey staying home, putting out and shutting up? Probably, but I would rather slit my wrists with a rusty razor blade than do that shit.
5. Get fit - work in progress.
6. Go overseas on gigantic backpacking extravaganza - tick. Five weeks isn't six months but it's enough time off work to make the holiday worth it.

I think that was it.

Damn fucking insomnia. I slept maybe three hours last night, haven't had any caffeine at all since 11am and I'm wide awake.

Amongst all the tragedy of the last few days my stepsister had a baby.

I am now Mad Auntie Jane to baby Hugo born about 9pm last night. Hugo is one of my favourite names. I'm so glad they picked a good name.

I went in and saw them tonight. Hugo is so small and cute (except when he cries, oh my ears). He looks like he's going to be a fanta pants like his father and his other auntie... time will tell I suppose!

Sending lots of hugs to those who are or who have family/loved ones (the terms aren't mutually exclusive, haha) in the bushfires. I was only four years old when Ash Wednesday came in 1983 so this is the first big fire that has affected people and their families I know and love. It's terrible. I kind of feel bad for whingeing about the power outages (though Victoria = fail) and it being fifty billion degrees recently.