Last night was the National IQ Test. Right Foot and I were both off to a flying start, getting the first fourteen questions right but it was downhill from then on. Arithmetic and rotating shapes in mid-air (why would I ever want to do that?) are not what we're good at. We both did well on the memory tasks which was reassuring. Why is it that when I see a column of figures my eyes glaze over and my brain goes into reverse? I have a Masters degree in Business after all. But the compulsory accounting subject in that course took years off my life. I had to get a tutor, an Indian girl half my age to get me through it. She always talked about rupees in her examples as I tried painfully to understand. Maybe if Eddie had talked rupees I would have done better, but I doubt it.

Yesterday was the funeral of the second of my colleagues to die of cancer in the last couple of months. Younger than me, this one. It is very scary and very sad.

Friday was my birthday. After the usual cakefest at work Right Foot and I went to a knees-up for TAFE librarians where I found myself at a table with my current boss and three of my former bosses. Sounds like an uncomfortable situation but we had fun. The venue was a student hospitality restaurant and the service was the usual off-the-wall stuff that you get in those places. On Saturday I had my real party with Grumpy Girl and Petite Soeur who gave me a most bodacious blouse which I love. There's nothing like a well-chosen gift to make you feel cared for. Right Foot gave me a camera to replace my recently deceased Minolta which had consistently produced surprisingly good photos considering the approach and attitude of the photographer. It was a very different birthday than last year's which I celebrated at Denis', a tourist trap restaurant in Sarawak with only Right Foot to celebrate with me.

On Sunday, RF, Petite and I went to see 'In the cut', very gripping, very gritty New York edgy crime thriller. Best performances I had ever seen from any of the cast.

Z has sent me some photos of her recent trip to Melbourne including those taken at the NTEU rally. There she is, carry a placard and marching down Collins Street. A pinko Malaysian librarian. I wonder if she has shown the photo to anyone in Kuching.

Following on from the news that Petite and Grumpy both made it into the top twenty in the HQ short story competition, we now hear that Grumpy has made it to the final ten. They both write so well. I remember them reading their stories to me as children while I was rushing around doing housework and how they would stop me in my tracks with with an image, an apt phrase or a subtle twist in a well-constructed plot. Clever cloggs both.