Right After This

2010-06-01T21:48:00.002+10:00

So, the blogging itch is starting to niggle away at me, yet again. I know that I'm starting to head down the same path when I find myself with random urges to write things down, and the fact that I've just bought a notebook to carry around with me is a perfect example. However, I'm yet to write anything in fear of somebody finding it, pointing and laughing at my emo poetry, or whatever I've decided to commit to paper. Plus, I can type approximately 3000 times faster than I can write, so I find myself here, yet again.

I have been dealing with all sorts of philosophical bullshit of late, the "what am I doing with my life", "why am I on this planet", "am I better off becoming a hobo than sitting in this job for the next 20 years" thoughts that generally plague the 20-something. i.e. The Usual. I am reading deep, dark and scary books and considering spending my free time in a cafe, wearing a black turtleneck and a beret and loudly declaring my thoughts on Nietzsche to a bunch of people who click instead of clap. That's what they do in the movies, right?

I am wondering if I will ever feel like it's ok to Settle, and be content with my mediocre life, and Have Kids, and all of the stuff that I'm supposed to do now that I'm an adult but really don't feel like I am, and may never be, ready for it.

And you thought I was kidding about the emo poetry, didn't you?

So I might start up another blog some place to spew and belch vitriol all over the internet, as it's been a while. Or maybe I won't, if I continue to be a lazy git.

In bright and sunny news:

Things with the new chap are going swimmingly! Sunshine and rainbows and all of that.
I am going to Melbourne for my birthday later this month, and it will be tip-top.
It's only two months until I go overseas on the very long world-wide holiday, and right now I'm about 5% excited and 95% freaking out that I won't have enough cash. However, I have mad cash-saving skillz, so I am hoping that all will be ok. If not, those hobo dreams may be fulfilled involuntarily.
I am completing a ridiculously nerdy training course for work at the moment, and it hurts my brain.

And, well. That's about it.

2010-04-29T12:29:00.003+10:00

In this super introspective phase of my life, I realise how much of a creature of habit I am. As Relationship #4 begins to find its feet, like a clumsy, ridiculously long-limbed, newborn fawn, I find myself following a familiar pattern. With 27 rapidly approaching, maybe I'm beginning to figure myself out?

Stage One - Excited! (Status: COMPLETE): Oh gosh, someone new! Someone new who is lovely and into me and gives me the giddies! I thought we were just shagging, but now I think that, gasp!, you might be my, gasp!, boy, gasp!, friend! Gasp!

Stage Two - Alone Time (Status: COMPLETE): We are hanging out so much, but I don't want this to move too quickly - I think some alone time is in order. Excuse me while I get a bit moody and distant, leaving you confused and dejected, while I make no effort at all to explain my behaviour. Poor new boyfriend!

Stage Three - Jealousy! (Status: COMPLETE): Everyone you have previously shagged, and everything you have previously done, fills me completely irrational and petty jealousy! The thought of you doing those things makes me super annoyed! Did you like her more than you like me now? I bet you did. Grrr!

Stage Four - I obviously care for you more than you care for me (Status: POSSIBLY STARTED YESTERDAY?): the fact that you didn't send me quite as many e-mails yesterday, and chose to stay at home to catch up on things rather than play XBox with me, obviously means that you are not as crazy about me as I am about you. Of course you say that you were super busy with work yesterday, and that you had to stay home to at least wash some clothes so that you weren't walking around in dirty jocks, but I know the truth! You hate me! Gah, what a mistake I've made jumping into this so quickly, now my heart will be broken into a million pieces!

Stage Five - Settled (Status: NOT YET STARTED): I no longer get the tummy butterflies when I see you, and I'm over my pathetic fight for (perceived) independence, jealousy and self-esteem issues - now we're lovely and comfortable and I'm pretty much certain that this is Forever. Yep, this is Us, for the rest of our lives, and it's grand. I am going to sigh contentedly, a lot. Ok?

Stage Six - SELF-DESTRUCTION!!!! (Status: NOWHERE NEAR IT, YET): We've grown apart! I've been feeling this way for months but haven't told you! I'm going to let us continue on while I feel miserable and will fail to express it by bottling my emotions, as you're very aware by now that I'm a First Class Bottler. All up until it comes to a head, and we Call It Quits, which will be followed by several days of "I know this is for the best, but I feel so sad" non-stop crying.

And there we have it, my complete relationship life-cycle. History has shown that Stage Five will kick in at some point after six months, and Stage Six doesn't occur until the 2-3 year mark. Grim outlook, yes? I guess the aim this time round should be to break the pattern, so that Six never happens. And if I'm honest with myself I know that in the past I haven't put in the effort to stop Six from happening, for various reasons. And despite the idealistic outlook I portray in Five, I don't really presume that anything is Forever anymore.

Poor new boyfriend, ending up stuck with cynical old me. He doesn't know what he's getting himself into.

2010-02-23T21:01:00.002+10:00

Despite the thrill of spam comments making me look far more blogpopular than I actually am, I've turned on word verification. Annoying, but I know that everyone secretly loves the chance of getting a random scattering of letters that just so happen to spell something obscene, so you can thank me later.

This isn't a proper update. I just thought I'd say hello, and mention that there is a billion things going on at the moment, some of which are possibly major occurrences in my otherwise incredibly boring life. And that pretty much all of them are not blog safe, so I'm kind of just sitting on them all, desperately writhing around in my seat wanting to blab everything out, looking not unlike a kid needing to pee quite badly.

So, uh, basically a post to say that there's nothing really that I can post right now.

Um. Hope you're well!

2010-01-18T21:40:00.002+10:00

The Tale of my First* Drunken Pash since being a Single Person (and yet further proof that everything I do in life is an EPIC FAIL)

A friend and I had decided on a night on the town. We headed out on Saturday and I immediately felt underdressed (why do all girls wear pretty party dresses now? I like shirts and jeans, goshdarnit), but consoled myself with cheap and nasty beer. It was super, super fun and we were having a very delightful time.

Got talking and drunkenly wobbling around near the bar with a very good looking chap. In fact, this guy was incredibly good looking (i.e. too good looking for me, but obviously his judgment was majorly impaired by beer), and he spoke like this guy** to boot. And after the Ugly Lights were turned on and we were booted out of the pub, he then leaned in and kissed me.

And it was absolutely horrific.

There was a flurried whirlwind of tongue in the "washing machine" style so popular amongst high schoolers. After a moment, he pulled away and I became aware that the bottom half of my face was COMPLETELY COVERED in his saliva. In my very drunken state, I wasn't sure what to do. I was pretty sure that it would be bad manners to hunt down the nearest towel and mop my face. So I just kind of stood there, feeling completely drenched and gasping the sweet, sweet oxygen.

You would think that after that terrifying experience, during which I almost drowned, that I would have learnt my lesson. Alas, no, he kissed me again, and it was equally disgusting. Afterwards I kind of dabbed at my mouth, and then fortunately our lift home arrived and I was able to run away.

And if this isn't bad enough, as I was running away the subject of age came up, and I learnt that this chap was 20 years old. TWENTY YEARS OLD. Which means that he was born in 1989, or there is even a slight possibility that he could've been born in 1990. Hold on, let me just point out how distressed I am by this:

1990!!!!!1!!@!OMGWTFFFF!!!!1!!!!

When I got home, I vigorously scrubbed my face.

I fail. I seriously, seriously fail.

*Actually, the second, but the first must stay pushed to the back of my mind forever more.
**The accent, that is. That was a random video I picked, I have no idea what it's about, so apologies if you spend six minutes watching it and it's rubbish.

2010-01-14T22:29:00.003+10:00

Skimming over some old archives, it's amazing to think that there's almost six years worth of my drivel online. A couple of breaks along the way, but there's blog posts dating from 2004 to now. Three break-ups, three overseas trips, three different jobs... hmm, pattern much? I had a read through some of my stuff from the blog before this one and man, I really had my blog shit together back then. I was churning out crap like there was no tomorrow.

It really does make me wonder though, when I compare it to what I've written here, did I stop having fun at some point? Or stop seeing the funny side of everything? Or did I just get really slack? Did I hit an age where I just couldn't be arsed anymore? And then I think about maybe giving it another go, a proper go, but then balk at the thought of having to commit to multiple posts per week, and that it makes it seem a bit like a job, which makes it less fun.

I miss writing though. I think I'd even consider doing NaNoWriMo again, because five years have passed since I tried it last time and almost commit suicide from the complete and utter misery it caused me.

[insert hilarious and relevant segue here]

I had lunch with a co-worker today, who I don't know particularly well, but who told me that he possibly has feelings for a female friend of his, despite her being in a long-term relationship and him being married-with-child. And I tried to be a good listener and offer some thoughts but on the inside just sat there thinking "Gosh, I just came here to try this bizarre sushi with mango in it and now what! Is going! On!"

[second equally excellent segue]

Was offered a job today by my old Director, no interview required, no questions asked. It is a project manager role, which I am completely unqualified for, and which is now vacant due to the previous employee leaving in a stress-induced fit of rage. Extra cash, but alas, I feel like I'm finally finding my feet where I work now, and have been extended out until June (hoorah!). I acted very non-committal, but said I would at least look at the position description.

[insert heartwarming yet hysterical story, possibly featuring a pair of amusing pants]

Oh, HAHAHAHAHA, I agree wholeheartedly!

[spectacular closing paragraph goes here]

2010-01-13T21:14:00.002+10:00

I am completely content with my spinsterhood, but can't help but notice:

Men who display interest in me:

Men who are much, much older than I am
Men who are married (worthy of its own blog post)
Men with extreme emotional issues
Men whose sexuality is questionable
Men who I do not find attractive
Men who look identical to one of my exes (no no no no no no)
Men who I work with
Men who I consider a buddy/brother-type, who then turn "weird"

Mainly a combination of several of the above.

Men who do not display interest in me:

Colin Firth (in Pride & Prejudice (or any other) form)
Ryan Reynolds (in bearded (or any other) form)
Very tall geeks with beards (except for the ones who fall into the categories above)

Eh. As B*witched once said, c'est la vie. I'm going to go hang out with my cat now.

2009-12-30T11:37:00.001+10:00

I'm not normally one for New Year's Resolutions, but I think that in 2010 I need to meet some new people. Seriously. I feel like I'm pretty much married to my group of work friends, and following on from the "propositions" from the previous post, and some other stuff (ooh, yes, very vague) it's all getting a wee bit awkward. The group is rife with gossip, deservedly so with all of the shagging going on, and the whole thing is feeling very incestuous.

At the moment, I'm given a slight respite by the fact that I'm on secondment to a different area, but if the rumours are true and I am going back to my old position in March, well, I don't really see myself successfully leading a team of people who have seen me drunkenly dancing like a hussy (many times) and on one particular occasion, vomiting in a very unattractive fashion.

My own fault, yes, I know.

So, ok, back to meeting new people. Or maybe reconnecting with old people. But preferably new people. Where are the new people located? Is there a vault full of new people somewhere? Or do I just need to "get out there" as they like to say. I don't know who "they" are. People who have successfully met new people, I imagine. And where is "there"? And is it possible to meet new people without them thinking that you are a desperate single person looking for a boyfriend? Because it's apparently almost impossible to maintain a platonic friendship with a guy without it getting "weird". Overuse of the "inverted commas" today, my "apologies".

Sigh.

Merry Chrimbo, Happy New Year, etc. Hope you are all well and jolly and have overdosed on gluttony and family mayhem.

2009-12-02T18:34:00.001+10:00

Because there's some stuff I can't tweet:

Since being single for the past couple of months (oh, I'm single now, by the way), I have had not one, but THREE of my male co-workers "have a crack", so to speak. This is not flattering. This makes me suspect that somebody is spreading rumours that I'm a super easy slutbag. And what bugs me the most is that these are guys who I considered to be good buddies, and who were apparently biding their time to try and eventually get into my frilly pants.

Ok, maybe more sensible than frilly.

Also, I experienced the wonder of being out with an Incredibly Beautiful Person the other night. I had come from work and was dressed in typical fashion, i.e. like a bum, and observed the activities with much interest from my spot against the wall, where I became completely invisible in her presence. It reminded me of that episode of 30 Rock where Liz Lemon goes out with a supremely beautiful man, who has no idea when he is terrible at things because he is constantly shown favour and given praise because he is beautiful. Kind of. It seems to work like this:

Continual comments about her (very beautiful) appearance
Men continually joking that she is their girlfriend
Never having to pay for her own drinks
Men making constant excuses to be near her and touch her

And so on. I thought about doing my hair nice, and putting on make-up, and dressing all pretty to see if it made a difference. For all of 5 seconds before I remembered that I really can't be arsed.

In other news, a friend and I are planning on a round-the-world trip for next August/September. I am 26, and should probably be saving for a house deposit. But travel is way more fun. Whoo!

2009-09-13T21:51:00.000+10:00

Thinking about packing the blog in. I could come up with a few different reasons, whether it's wanting to free myself of the worry that somebody from work will find me on here having a bitch-fest, and get me in a world of shit, or that I just find it difficult to come up with my usual gibberish these days. Or maybe it's the fact that my ex (mentioned in this post) e-mailed me and implied that somebody reads my blog and reports information to him (or some such shit). This last part doesn't worry me, but it just makes me feel weary and exhausted. I am used to this from when we were together and since we have been apart.

So maybe it's mostly that I don't really want my life on display here anymore, for whatever reason.

I do have a lot going on right now, hinted at previously with comments about spending time in my head, and most of it really can't be written about here. Which kind of sucks, because writing is great therapy, but when you can't use your diary as a diary then it doesn't really have much purpose anymore. I would love to just vomit it all out, I'm sure I would feel much better. Alas.

Then again, maybe I'm just having an off day and tomorrow will be sunshine and lollipops. Maybe?

2009-08-31T17:32:00.004+10:00

I like music. I am not one of these hip and trendy people who listen to new, innovative bands, but I like music. I like to listen to it, and I dabble at playing it, though I largely suck at the latter. I even sing along with my whiny cat-strangle voice from time to time.

So when people tell me that they are in a band or involved with music in some way, my interest is piqued. Mainly because my total suckage at playing/singing means I am immediately envious of them.

So! Imagine my interest when one of the guys I now work with tells me that he wrote a song. "I play rhythm guitar in a band, but this one time I wrote and recorded a song. The stuff I play is normally pretty heavy but this is more of a ballad. Really out of character for me."

Ooooooh! goes my brain.

"Can you sing?" I ask.

"Well I didn't think I could, but my friends say that I can," he replies.

I immediately started hassling him. "Send me the song! E-mail it to me! Go on! Here's my e-mail address! Go on! Please! I strongly advise you to send me the song, or I will annoy you about it forever more! Song! Send! To me! Yes!"

So he does.

Dilemma: the song is, well, really not that good. And by that, I mean that it's actually pretty awful. When somebody says "well I don't think that I can sing that well..." they are either being honest, or being modest, and I didn't think for a second that it was going to be the former. And now I am faced with this situation. Should I:

Pretend I didn't receive it. Pro: don't have to give any feedback, Con: he will most likely send it to me again, and I'm not sure I could use the same technique twice.
Be honest. Pro: won't go to hell, Con: will offend him and cement my reputation as Bitch Extraordinaire.
Lie through my teeth. Pro: he will be happy, Con: is dishonest, and secures me a place in hell for being a dirty, filthy liar.
Be vague and non-committal. Pro: avoids discomfort and lies, Con: would need a back-up plan in case he prompts me for genuine feedback.

Sigh. I replied to his e-mail and told him that the lyrics were poetic. I need to have my back-up plan ready ASAP.

2009-08-26T21:15:00.004+10:00

Ok, so where am I at. This is rhetorical.

I'm a week and a half into my new job and I'm still in panic mode, to be honest. I haven't been given too much to do yet and I keep trying to think of ways to fill my time. I have been very, very tempted to blog but it has been far too long since I used to fill my quiet work hours with blog posts and I feel way too guilty at the thought. Even more guilty knowing that this job is such a great opportunity, which I'm not supposed to be wasting, etc.

So I have been studying. And taking practice exams. A lot of. My exam is on the 18th of September and I plan on kicking much arse. I have also been given free reign over a test lab (with permission to break it) and I went up there today and had a play, though I feel very nervous doing so. I am just trying to feel comfortable with using my brain again and being in a completely different type of environment, I guess. An environment which is, by the way, a total sausage-fest. Not that this makes a difference, but it's an interesting sidenote.

Meanwhile, I have been keeping in touch with my old team pretty regularly, exchanging e-mails and messages all over the place, and the word on the street is that they don't like my replacement. It might be because I was slack and let them get away with a lot. In fact, this is very, very likely. It's good to be popular*.

That "spending time in my own head" bit I mentioned last post? Yeah, still doing that.

A lot.

The next three or four weeks are busy and pretty much planned out for me. Bridge to Brisbane, Ben Folds, a friend's birthday party, High Tea with the laydeez, and a yum cha date. Between each of those, insert work, studying like crazy because I don't want to fail this exam, tennis and whatever other exercise I can be arsed doing, and practising piano so that I don't completely suck. For me, this is super crazy busy. I normally sit around watching 30 Rock and wishing that Tina Fey was my girlfriend. Busy.

*Swoon*

*As a sidenote, I was nominated by somebody and then voted Chairperson of the Social Club at work, right before I left. Yes, people actually voted for me. I have never been picked for anything, ever. Has something gone out of whack, somewhere in the universe?

2009-08-16T10:52:00.004+10:00

What a week. What an unproductive week. I was really looking forward to having the last week off and to be honest, it's been great, but I feel completely out of it. And the thought of starting this job tomorrow is starting to kick in and I find that I am shitting myself, slightly.

On Friday night I caught up with my team and other work folk for drinks etc. It was fun, but I find that I already feel incredibly detached from them. Their new Team Leader is a great girl, really personable (and not an enormous social misfit like me) and has settled in like she's been there all her life. Which is fantastic, good for her and good for everyone else, too. I'm glad the job is in capable hands. But letting go of the good people there is a little bit sad. Though I'm going to be seeing them at drinks and social thingies anyway, so all good, yes?

Sigh. I have spent a lot of time inside my head of late. Not just work, but everything. My mind is very cluttered.

I think I'm just wondering what kind of mistakes I'm making.

Also.

Woah! What's with this post? Sunshine and rainbows!

Sidenotes:

I have the worst potty mouth ever when drunk.
I have a lot of black spots from Friday night.
There's only one week until Bridge to Brisbane. I predict that I will die. I'll make sure I post one last time before I go.
Beardie bought me a Dwight Schrute bobblehead.

And Chamberlain skekSil.

I am going to put them on my new desk alongside Baird from Gears of War. And they can all have a tea party.
I might go out today and buy some sports bras.

I hope your weekend has been fine and dandy.

2009-08-11T08:25:00.004+10:00

It's funny how my brain works. Yesterday I had a productive day, had my hair chopped and visited my mum, with the intent of keeping the rest of this week free to study my arse off. This morning, faced with the prospect of sitting down for some long, hard study, I am franctically considering what else I could possibly be doing. This includes:

Making random videos for Youtube
Locating & watching episodes of The Gilmore Girls
Locating & watching episodes of Sex in the City (I think there is something hormonal going on here?)
Blogging
Driving to the shops to try and find those Jols lollies in the metal tins (I am in love with them)
Rummaging through my wardrobe, finding things I haven't worn in forever and then doing my own private fashion show full of dodgy outfits
Experimenting with colourful make-up, like I'm 12
Baking (I may or may not have purchased a book yesterday entitled "500 Cupcakes")

Book purchase may have been inspired by sitting next to this display yesterday:

I am doing at least one of these things right now, so the trend may continue.

So I left the ridiculously long hair on the hairdressers floor and now it is just shoulder-length. Not as big a deal as I was expecting, though I haven't actually shown it to anyone yet. Except for my mum, whose comment was "oh. You've chopped all your hair off." I did try and take a picture yesterday, before sleeping on it and turning it into a birds nest, however the photos came out shitty, and I'm not going to blog a picture where it looks shittier than normal, gosh darn it. Maybe I could add 'Taking a Hair Photo' to my list of Procrastination Activities for today.

Nothing exciting to report on the Mountain Dwellers(!!!) front. Except every now and then I learn exactly where my various neuroses stem from, in particular my Punctuality Issues. I think I am a lot more laid back than my mum, in terms of accepting things that I can't change, and it is made more evident than ever on days like yesterday. I have this memory of being about 11, and my teacher asking me to stay back after school for a couple of minutes, and the ill feeling I had in my stomach knowing that I was keeping my mum waiting outside in the car. Yesterday I leave the hairdresser WAY later than expected, see the time and promptly crap myself. I call my mum (who has already left me a voicemail message saying she is there waiting for me) and let her know that I am on my way, but that it's about a half hour drive.

So I speed the entire way there, do a big screechy driving into the carpark (screechy, teehee!) and while my mum doesn't say anything (other than the "hair chopped off" comment) she looks weary, and disappointed. And I feel terrible, and am so apologetic it is spew-worthy. So for all the times I am ridiculously early, and all the times I hassle Beardie about getting ready and going, this is my excuse. My deep-seeded Punctuality Issues.

Anyway. So that's the blogging done. What's next on the list?

2009-08-05T21:14:00.004+10:00

So I'm half way through my last week of Contact Centre Bollocks and the crazybusy hit me today. Monday and Tuesday were so smooth, so easy, I thought I was going to cruise my way out of that place. Alas! Today was mental, and I don't have high hopes for the rest of the week, either.

The news about the job came out yesterday. Before the official e-mail went to all staff I decided to tell a few people one-on-one, as I felt a bit weird about them learning I was leaving in four days from an e-mail. And it was freaking horrible. I guess this is possibly the first time I've switched jobs when I actually really liked some of the people I work with. I was all shaky hands and nervous twitches as I gave them the news, and most of my team predictably Freaked Out. I hate this leaving shit, can it be over please?

One outcome I wasn't expecting from all of this was a bit of cattiness. I know there's quite a few people who would love a secondment to a different area, so I've had some funny responses from people, including "oh, I thought they weren't releasing staff anymore?" and "well now you've gone, they'll probably never let ME go." What is up with that? Be happy for me, you bitches!

Anyhoo. I've got the rest of this week to get through and then a lovely week off, during which time I am going to lop off all of my hair, catch up with my mum and have farewell drinks with work people. And then starts my super nerdtastic adventure! I am going to become the biggest geek the world has ever seen.

(Yes, even more so than before!)

2009-07-31T19:05:00.003+10:00

Oh my. Oh my goodness my goodness golly gosh my. Today I received some very major news, which I am bullet pointing below. Or short-sentencing below. You know what I mean.

I got the techy job.
Turns out that they have wanted me on their team for yonks, and my boss and boss's boss knew about it, but neglected to tell me.
It means I get a nasty paycut but increased brain stimulation and happy feelings.
I start in two weeks.
This is one more week at work, and then a planned week off.
Nobody at work knows except for one close friend. This means that on Monday I'll be telling everyone that I'm leaving at the end of that week.
This is short notice.
I am sad to be leaving the lovely people, and glad to be leaving the stupidheads.
I am a bit scared that I am not clever enough for this job, and that I've talked myself up a bit too much.
They are putting me down for a six-month contract, so if it turns out that I do suck majorly, it's tough titties for them.
In this new job, I will have no direct reports. That's right. None.
I AM ECSTATIC.
Did I mention I would have no direct reports? And would just be responsible for my own work, rather than the work of gits?

Awesome. So, so awesomely awesome. Etc. Awesome.

2009-07-29T18:46:00.003+10:00

It feels like forever since I've blogged. Hectic times, my friend. Hectic times indeed.

Today I had my last day of a five-day training course. Well, it was my last day attending the course, and now I need to study my arse off if I want to have any hope at all of passing the test. The worrying thing about doing this course is how out of shape my brain is. I guess being a Team Leader isn't the most cerebral of jobs? It felt like it took me a few hours to blow the cobwebs out of my cranium and remember how to learn. And I'm still not sure I'm doing a very good job of it.

The whole point of me doing this course is to make me far more suitable for That Job I went for, so it is Very Important that I do well. Speaking of That Job, the Director keeps on giving me inside goss on where they are up to (wants to get rid of me, perhaps?) and I found out that they only received the applications last Friday. So I would expect that they would be finalising the shortlist, or inviting people to be interviewed, or whatever the hell they do next at the end of this week, or maybe the week after.

The other inside info that Captain BigBoss told me is that he heard that there were three jobs going, instead of just two. This made my tummy do a flip-flop, because my previous "investigations" told me that there were already two valid contenders for the two jobs available. But if there's three, then I may have a better chance, whether I am crap or not.

What I need to do is stop thinking about it, gosh darn it.

In between trying to learn all of this techy stuff I am now studying for my piano exams. Yes, I know how to take the fun out of a hobby! I decided to do exams in the hope that it would keep my motivation levels up, plus give me a target to aim for. And one of the songs that I can choose to perform is The Chamber of Secrets from Harry Potter, so therefore the whole world is jealous of me. It will probably be quite a long time before I can take the exam, especially since I seem to have no time to do anything at all right now.

Also, I did something to my ankle, so all I can do is hobble around and watch my stamina slowly disappear.

Summary: my brain is exploding and I am feeling unfit and podgy.

The end.

2009-07-18T18:11:00.003+10:00

It's generic life update time!

Dexter! Dexter is the naughtiest kitty ever, and basically divides his time between slashing my flesh to pieces and sleeping on my hair at night. My right hand in particular looks as though I shoved it into the insinkerator. He has settled in very well and I love him muchly, despite the pain he causes me.

The Abbey Medieval Festival! Alas, good sirs and fair maidens, we did not go. And the friends who were supposed to go and then bring us hilarious stories also did not go, because they wanted to go to a chocolate fair instead. Chocolate over jousting? Oh, come on. I guess there is always next year.

The job! Have heard nothing yet but I would expect to receive some type of notification next week. I was the sneakiest of sneaky people and asked a friend with access to the government jobs database to have a look at how many other people had applied, and who they were. Only 11 applications! For two jobs! This is great, though I did recognise two of the names (and at least one of them is a shoo-in), so it's still very uncertain. I am hoping though, because to move into a shiny new job would be just delightful.

Boring fitness shit! I am on Week Eight of my running program, with just one more week left until I am officially Hardcore. And by Hardcore, I mean rubbish. But I should be able to hobble my way through Bridge to Brisbane, which was the whole idea. I can already foresee that being in the middle of thousands of other runners is going to make me run much faster than what I am capable of so that I tire in the first 30 seconds and have to sit down on the side of the road with a glass of water. Should be lovely!

Piano! It's official - I am going to be "performing" in a small concert for adult piano students at the end of September. I predict that I will completely cock it up. This is very certain. But I will ask Beardie to film it on my shiny new video camera and then perhaps I'll post it. Especially if I screw it royally, because it will probably be very hilarious (i.e. shockingly embarrassing for me).

What else! Nothing much. Doing some training over the next couple of weeks, followed by an exam, to turn me into a super 1337 techo nerd geek h4x0r type person. Going to a barbeque tomorrow at Beardie's boss's place, which is apparently a Big Deal and I'm not allowed to wear fat pants and thongs. Other than that, business as usual. Work is work, and highly worky.

I hope you are having a tip top weekend.

2009-07-12T14:37:00.001+10:00

As you probably know, the reason I started RAT and ditched the Old Blog was related to my ex. Specifically, I wanted somewhere else that I could write, that he didn't know about. So I tried to make this one as anonymous as possible, with no links or references to the old one, and thought that would be that.

So how should one feel when the ex mentioned has shown that he is actually reading this blog, by leaving a comment on one of the posts?

a) Indifferent. It's been a long time, so what does it matter?
b) Happy. Oh, so great to hear from you!
c) Incredibly annoyed. LKSDFLKJSDFLSDlkjslf#$#ljsdfk! [head explodes]

I guess I need a mop to clean up my head.

More back story is probably needed, but it is just frustrating after making such efforts to move on with my life, only to once again have another reminder of a time in my life when I wasn't particularly happy.

Call me crazy.

Sigh.

2009-07-09T19:43:00.003+10:00

We named the kitty Dexter. Yes, after the donut-loving serial killer. And I am so in love with Dexter. Dexter the cat, that is. I have gone kitty crazy. I go to work and talk to the other Cat People about things, like "oh, look at the hole in my stocking, Dex did that this morning. Ha ha! Yes, I look like a homeless person! Ha ha. Oh, cats. Cats? Yes, cats cats. Cats." He keeps me awake half the night by pouncing on my head, chewing on my hair and licking my eyelids but I am still giddy and swoony over him. He has shat horrible cat diarrhoea all over our bed, but he just looks up at me and meows and all is forgiven. I arrive home from work and he starts purring like a car engine and it is just lovely.

This weekend I am finally buying the new video camera I've been planning on getting for yonks, so expect gratuitous cat photos and video shortly. Yes, it's my blog and I can act deranged if I want to.

</obsessive cat lady talk>

In other news, the rumours turned out to be true and two jobs have been advertised. I applied on the weekend and am trying not to get my hopes up this time. Even if the Manager of the area sent me an e-mail making sure that I knew that the jobs were there. Must not think about it. Must. Not.

Have a fairly busy weekend planned, with work drinks tomorrow night (the work socialising is getting slightly mental of late), a high tea date with the laydeez (and one boy) on Saturday, and a possible visit to the Abbey Medieval Festival on Sunday. I thought it would be a great chance for me to test out the new camera, by filming the mock sword fights and jousts and whatnot, but apparently cameras are Strictly Forbidden. Maybe because they weren't invented in medieval times. Or maybe people dressed as noblemen and women who play with weapons and call each other "good sir" and "wench" don't want to be filmed. I think it would be hilariously awesome.*

Look at the program, they have Morris Dancing!!

2009-07-05T15:21:00.003+10:00

This is a kitty. A mischevious little imp of a kitty. Despite not having a kitty since I was living at home in my teens, I have always been a Cat Lady. I display all the characteristics of a Cat Lady, I have just been lacking the cat. Well no more! Beardie and I have discussed it many a time and have always taken the sensible route, i.e. "What if we travel?" "What will the real estate say?" "We should wait until we buy our own house" etc. etc.

Apparently our brains simultaneously revolted with a "Sense be damned!" and we are now kittified.

Here is what the kitty did to me, about three seconds after picking it up for the first time. This is a sign of things to come.

Kitty currently goes by the name "Kitty", though any suggestions are welcome. With the names that we keep coming up with, he might be Kitty for quite a while.

2009-07-01T22:13:00.003+10:00

Frubears. You can find Frubears in the health food/dried fruit bit of your supermarket. They are little bears that are made of dried apricot, dried peach and mysterious "fruit fibre". They are healthy and pretty tasty and having a couple is just lovely.

Eating an entire packet is NOT LOVELY.

Beardie and I had a movie date tonight to see Transformers 2 (Review: Fox is extremely hot, robots are pretty cool, movie was ok overall but not superawesomecool like the first one) and in an attempt to be healthy, I purchased some things to eat in place of the usual salty popcorn and choc top loveliness.

Frubears seemed like a great option due to the health factor, however I made the deadly mistake of forgetting all about the fibre content.

I JUST ATE 20 GRAMS OF DIETARY FIBRE IN 15 MINUTES.

Imagine if somebody cut open your stomach, dropped a large stone inside and sewed you back up. My digestive system is really pissed off with me.

I really shouldn't be making these kind of mistakes at this age.

2009-06-25T18:22:00.005+10:00

I joined Twitter last week. I joined it so I could follow Peter Serafinowicz, with no intent of ever using it, and then while I was out drinking with workfolk the discussion moved to Twitter, and I started using it.

(Also, have arrived home to discover that Miss Audrey Apple has already posted a similar (though much better worded) confession. Quite freaky.)

I am not game enough to link it, because it is all Real Name-ish, and Real Photo-ish, and for the first time ever I am doing something on the internet without my anonymity to back me up. Can you believe it!

But, this post is supposed to be small, because all I'm saying is that I joined it, and am therefore officially NOT the last person on the bandwagon, for once in my life.

Or maybe I am.

Either way, you are permitted to punch me in the face now.

2009-06-21T08:52:00.005+10:00

Bleurgh. What a weekend!

Grade 7 Poetry:

Ode to a Little Green Shitbox

With your crumply front plate
And your unroadworthy state
I was ripped off when I bought you

But your smells and your squeals
And your crooked front wheels
Meant that slowly, I came to adore you

Then I bought a new car
Which was better, by far
For economics, I had to sell you

I put you up on Carsales
Excluding some minor details
Within a day it was time to farewell you

Now I see and hear you around
(I know your unique clicking sound)
And your new ginger owner dotes on you

And while I am cashed up and glad
My heart feels a bit sad
For my Little Green Shitbox; I loved you

Sniff.

And briefly:

I turned 26 on Wednesday. Beardie and I both had the day off work and went shopping, followed by a big mother of a steak. I am all about the steak lately. 26 seems to be going ok. I am in my late twenties. Apparently I am lover of steak in my late twenties. All is well.

I organised a night of bowling for my team on Friday night, which was super fun, though every time I stay out for drinks with work people I regret it. I mostly regret all the shit that I spout which is really not making that great an impression when you have to go back to work and be in charge of these people. BUT THEN, I also went out last night for an engagement party. Plus, we had an enormous dinner beforehand (including a rocky road sundae, which we completely inhaled in seconds, much to the disgust of the other patrons and amazement of the waitress). So basically I am feeling seedy and porky today and as a result am going to detox this week.

There's some whispers on the job front that could see me putting in an application for the department that brutally rejected me the last time. The only difference between now and then is that next month I am going on an awesome training course which will actually give me some of the skills that they were asking for the last time I applied. They are only rumours at this stage, but I still get a little excited skippety-skip in my tummy.

What's the best thing to do when you are seedy and porky? Clean the house from top to bottom for an inspection this week. Fricking awesome. Hope you've had a good weekend, lovely people.

2009-06-12T18:36:00.001+10:00

I have come to a realisation. Nobody can read my face. My face is unreadable. I often find myself in scenarios like the following:

[Scene: a management meeting, Director present, discussing boring crap about boring work and the like]

Manager: Well what I would like to propose is [insert proposal here]
Me: [listening, however thinking dreamily about having leftover Mum's Stew for lunch]
Manager: Oh, well just look at RAT's face, she doesn't like it!

[All turn to look at me]

Me: Oh, um, not at all?

[Conversation continues]

Manager: So I guess the main idea is [insert main idea here]
Me: [listening, however contemplating how many pieces of Hubba Bubba are required to blow a bubble the size of my torso]
Manager: Look at RAT's face, she obviously has something to say about that!

And so on. The most common one is receiving comments that I look as though I don't like something, when in fact I do actually like it, or don't really care about it much, but am definitely not opposed to it. Maybe I just have a disagreeable face and look like a miserable git all of the time? Very possible.

Maybe this is to do with turning 26 next week? And my rapidly ageing face is handing out mixed messages to everyone?

Also very possible.

Well I guess it is better than everyone and their mother being able to work out exactly what I'm thinking just by looking at me. Yes? Hmm.

2009-06-08T07:14:00.003+10:00

For people who enjoy the full use of their arms, shoulders and upper back, might I suggest that you do not go canoeing for seven hours? Just a tip.

Alas, I am only able to give myself this tip in retrospect.

OW.

Cue mental imagery of Beardie and I lazily paddling along a calm, clear lake, with the sun shining and birds twittering. Then replace it with me screeching "go RIGHT, go RIGHT!!!" and us drifting head-first into an overhanging tree. And the lake was brown, but most likely from tannin and not actually from poo (as I kept claiming), and there were definitely birds about but they were vastly outnumbered by the mosquitoes. By about twenty billion to one.

Our party also ended up lost at one point, and frantically trying to escape from a rapidly dwindling inlet before we ended up completely bogged.

However! I did not fall out, or capsize the boat, or even get wet a little bit. In fact I did more damage to myself at lunch by dropping tuna all over my pants, and therefore smelling delightful for the rest of the day.

It was actually pretty good fun, with good company and lovely scenery and all of that. And the pain isn't too bad this morning, though Beardie tells me that it might be that kind of deeply burrowed muscular pain that will come out the day after the day after.

Other ridiculous things I have signed myself up for:

My piano teacher, who is as quiet as a mouse (I am a very quiet person, and she makes me seem like a big, loudmouthed git), asked me if I wanted to participate in an upcoming concert that they were holding. Given that the rest of the participants were aged 10 and under, I declined, not wanting to be the only Giant Person on stage. She said that they were considering having a concert just for their adult students and would I like to participate in that one instead? I said that if she gives me plenty of notice, I would do it. That's right. Performing on a stage. In front of strangers. This is only just an idea at this stage and I already need a change of underwear.
Beardie suggested that we partake in the Bridge to Brisbane Fun Run this year, and because I want one of those t-shirts that says "I completed Bridge to Brisbane", I said yes. Then I realised what I had just done, and said "ah, shit." It coincides pretty well with the running program that we're doing and I figure we can always just walk/hobble/crawl along if we need to. And can I just point out that the idea of me EVER partaking in something like this is just freaking crazy; I never thought I would. It's got to be a good thing, I guess.
We've accepted an invite to go a popular American-style restaurant which is famous for house-sized portions of ribs, wings, pork belly and other meals primarily based around gigantic slabs of meat. As somebody who has always been a small eater, and a lover of all things vegetable, I am already quite frightened by this concept. They don't have a menu online so I can't even make a plan beforehand and can foresee an evening of clutching my stomach, my pants exploding, groaning with a trail of hickory-smoked, porky BBQ sauce running down my chin.

Today I have a whole range of crappy girly movies to watch (as Beardie is working, I am sparing him the ~~pain~~ best time of his life) and I will probably try and finish reading The English Patient. For those indulging in public holiday awesomeness today, I hope you have a shiny, tip top day.

2009-05-31T15:08:00.003+10:00

You know, there's probably better things I could be doing than watching *NSYNC videos on Youtube.*

For example:

I could be out scaring children with my experimental fingernails. I have seen not one but TWO people with nails like this, so I am thinking that looking as though I have dipped my fingertips into a tin of paint is The In Thing.

I could be eating yet another serve of my Mum's Stew. My Mum's Stew, made by me. So, um, my stew. You know what I mean. Every winter since moving out of home at the age of 18 has been spent whining that I missed my mum's stew. On Saturday, I started to feel those familiar pangs and dug out the hand-written recipe book that I carefully transcribed when I was 12 (in my neatest handwriting, actually) and flicked through the battered pages until I found it. And my GOD, I cannot believe I waited seven years to make it. I had one bowl yesterday, and then today I had the only thing better than Mum's Stew - SECOND DAY MUM'S STEW. For real. You need to come over to my house and try it, STAT. I made enough for eight people.

I could be out spending even more money that I don't have. For somebody who is completely skint, I sure do buy a lot of shit. I put this down to forcing myself to not spend any money at all for ten weeks and then lifting this ban when I had Zero Dollars in my bank account after buying a car. Clever much. But Wednesday is payday, hoorah!

Or, you know, if I got bored of those things I could try:

becoming an accomplished pianist
fulfilling my lifelong dreams
um, figuring out what my lifelong dreams are
and, you know, stuff

Sigh. I wish I was in a boy band.

*But that song is just so catchy! And look at wee JT bobbing about on the bed, trying to get his sex on. Awwwww.

2009-05-23T09:51:00.004+10:00

Lately, I am on a baking frenzy. I have made muffins two weekends in a row (and I'm wondering if it's just the way they make the house smell that I am addicted to) and am fully getting into the whole "make loads of food and then freeze it for lunches" concept. I even bought a gigantic cookbook from one of those discount book places, and it's not as dodgy as you would expect.

Reading: I've read a few books lately, In Cold Blood (which was quite good), Musicophilia (a non-fiction book about the different ways music impacts the brain, which was quite interesting) and I'm currently reading American Psycho, which has so far made me feel physically queasy only the once, though I still have half the book left to go. It is so very graphic (with both violence and sex) that I can't even act all cavalier on the bus, flaunting my banned book in front of everyone's face, because I find that I need to burrow into a corner so that nobody reads about what Patrick Bateman is doing with two girls over my shoulder.

Watching: He's Just Not That Into You. I saw this last night, and Beardie pretended to watch it with me while he actually surfed the net on his iPhone and read through a JB Hi Fi catalogue. It did have me pondering how anyone can possibly live that kind of lifestyle, going out with a different guy every week and obsessing over whether he is The One (do people really do that? Really??), while my "dating" experience has been to go out with the one guy until we are Boyfriend And Girlfriend without going out with anyone else during that time, which is apparently not the norm. I spent the rest of the movie marvelling at Scarlett Johannson's body - are her boobs actually bigger now than they were before? These are the important questions.

Working: On developing a pre-crazy Britney back:

(Actually, that looks like some pretty frightening spine cleavage.)

And a Jessica Biel arse:

It can be done, surely? Maybe I shouldn't be baking muffins.

2009-05-15T19:35:00.003+10:00

Weight loss and fitness: THE JOURNEY*.

[cues Shannon Noll music]

Actually, not all that impressive really. Ten weeks ago, I started wearing a pedometer constantly** and writing down every little bit of exercise I did. I also started exercising, which in itself was a Big Deal for the girl who likes to sit around in fat pants feeling lardy.

I joined up with a website and started recording what I was eating. I stopped buying lunches and social club chocolates and energy drinks and iced tea and lattes and butterscotch hot chocolate with marshmallows and buttery raisin toast for breakfast. This was A Change, and all of a sudden I had shitloads more cash. Funny that.

I cleared all of the crap food out of the house and replaced it all with super healthy goodness. Beardie gave me two Easter eggs this year, and I have eaten one so far, except it took me a month to get through. Yes, a month. I became so jam-packed with fruit and vegetables that I would probably make a hearty addition to your winter stew.

Sigh. And all this because Thailand made me feel podgy.

The Outcome:

My stamina is up and upper. I can jump around all over the place and my face is only 50% tomato-coloured, instead of 800%.
I have muscle tone in place of jiggle. Well, there's still a bit of jiggle, but a bit of muscle tone, too.
I lost weight. Based on BMI, I picked a target of 56kg. As of today, I am 56kg. After Thailand, when I started this thing, I was 63.5. It is kind of freaky that this whole thing has worked out exactly within the ten weeks of the work fitness challenge, but hey, I am down with it.
I'm back to the weight I was before I started my binge drinking Journey at 18. It's pretty cool, but I'm a bit peeved that a lot of weight seemed to come off my rack. I liked my boobs, but oh well. They're still there, but a bit smaller.
Not many of my clothes fit me properly anymore, and my jeans are all saggy around the arse.

The Lessons We Learn:

I could, in theory, go onto a diet of pies right now. However I am kind of unsure how to function like a normal human anymore, and will have to keep recording everything I eat, at least for a little while.
I could, in theory, sit around like a lazy git and watch my newly-developed stamina go to shit. However I'm kind of keen to keep it up for a while longer, and I'm starting a 9-week running program next week which will most likely kill me.
Most of the snacks I used to eat and consider healthy are actually really shitty for my health. If I become one of those preachy nazi health nuts, can you please punch me in the face.

*The extreme overuse of the word 'journey' on Biggest Loser-y type shows makes me cringe, big time.
**Cannot wait to take the bitch off.

2009-05-07T17:43:00.005+10:00

Yesterday, Beardie and I celebrated our anniversary. Because we are big, childish nerds, we did the following:

Went to Underwater World
Went to a Ginger Factory

Yeah!

Underwater World is pretty similar to how it was the last time I was there (15 years ago). I was still too scared to touch any of the slimy things in the hands-on tank and still very confused by the private parts of rays and sharks. It was pretty darn cool.

I have an unhealthy obsession with ginger. Sometimes people become obsessed with ginger, when they're elderly and wear cardigans all the time. I am 25 and I want to marry ginger. While I'm at it, I also love cardigans. I ran around the ginger shop like it was Willy Wonka's ginger factory, waving my arms and leaving a trail of drool. Damn this healthy eating bullshit; I could only leave with some ginger bears and a solitary gingerbread man. But they have an online shop, and I will be back. Oh yes.

In brief:

I emptied my entire savings account today, to pay for the car. My tiny bank balance makes me sad.
Only a week and a half of my fitness thing left! I will do a full wrap-up next week, but it's been a pretty interesting run (and for reasons I cannot fathom, pretty darn successful).
I bought some new glasses and prescription sunglasses today. Because apparently I am not content leaving any money in my account, at all. But these things must be done as I progressively become more decrepit and blind.

Adios!

2009-05-05T16:34:00.003+10:00

1.

Today is my mummy's birthday. Happy birthday, Mum (who doesn't know this blog exists)! As I have this week off work (hallelujah!), Mumsy, my brother and I have been lunching and gift giving and the like. In today's episode of The Sordid Lives of the Mountain Dwellers!!!1!:

Mum: So the neighbours disappeared in the middle of the night!
Me: Really?
Mum: Yes! His car was repossessed one day and then PHFLFLT*! Off they went the next!
Me: Wow!
Mum: You'll never guess what. Their house was full of..[pauses for effect]..chicken shit.
Me: What?
Mum: Chicken shit.
Me: IN the house?
Mum: Yep. In the house. They kept chickens... IN THE HOUSE.
Me: What on earth.
Mum: They had a mountain of washing up which they never did. And the chickens shat all over that, too!
Me: Jeez.
Mum: They had two kids. Those poor kids. They were always running around, screaming.
Me: I'll bet.

2.

I BOUGHT A CAR. Well, kind of. I made an offer, and the dude accepted it, but there has been no exchange of cash and car as yet. There probably won't be until next week, at least. It is a whole ten years younger than my last car (2005, ooh la la!) and is completely impractical, not overly fuel efficient or cost effective. So the perfect choice for me, really.

If anyone wants a 1995 Mazda Astina who goes by the name of "Little Green Shitbox" and/or "Swank" then you are more than welcome to make me an offer. Or you could just buy me a beer and it'll be an even trade.

3.

Dear Telstra,

This is the fifth time you have sent me this bill. You are stupid.

From,

RAT.

*You know the noise I am trying to make here, right?

2009-04-28T21:18:00.001+10:00

So, I passed my manual driving test this morning. This is fantastic news, because of the following:

I no longer have to have lessons with one of the most infuriating men on earth. Mr. Forgets-a-lot who reprimanded me on pretty much everything I did and told me that he had given up hope of me ever slowing down for corners. Maybe I did suck quite badly, but I can only handle a solid hour of "don't do that" and "CLUTCH CONTROL!" and "be careful about this" for so long before paying $55 for the privilege seems to be an unfair price. And I can't have been as bad as he made out if my creepy tester let me pass. Surely.

I can go car shopping! The little green shitbox is making high-pitched whirring noises quite a lot these days (not to mention billowing black smoke from under the bonnet), and I think that during this economic crisis it is high time for me to get myself into a lot of debt. Because I'm clever like that.

I have a much nicer licence photo! Admittedly, I did tart myself up a little bit in the hope that should my driving efforts be abysmal, perhaps I could flutter my eyelashes to reach a pass mark, and as a result I don't look like my usual hobo self in my photo. Hoorah!

I never have to take another driving test, ever again! Retrospectively, I really shouldn't have been such a lazy cow and taken the easy way out in the first place, but what's done is done, and I am stoked to be finished with it.

Lovely!

2009-04-24T21:04:00.002+10:00

On Thursday, the Director sat us down to discuss Our Jobs. He used the phrase "the economic crisis has come to Queensland government." He likes to say things like that for impact. Apparently the area that I work in is considered a target by the other head honcho types, and while everyone is looking for ways to save money (they just took away the free teabags), our jobs may be at risk. May be at risk. Nobody knows anything, or if they do, they're not saying a word.

A couple of people felt a little panicked. The Director said that we shouldn't panic, and that we should boost our performance so that the Cost-Cutters have nothing to fault us on. I took in this information quite calmly. With the rate that things progress in government, if I am going to lose my job it will probably take a few months, at least. I already scour Seek every morning for shiny new jobs. There is no change. Business as usual.

It's probably pretty unlikely that they would fire me, though.

I mean, who would fire the owner of incredibly sexy sock boots such as these?

They'd have to be crazy.

2009-04-19T14:17:00.003+10:00

I feel like I need to do something. Start my own business, trek somewhere exciting, begin a quest for Youtube stardom, something.

Unfortunately, I'm fresh out of ideas. I will just have to sit here until my feet stop itching.

News!

No news.

No news is good news? Actually, no news = boring life. Part of my Itchy Feet Syndrome seems to be feeling desperate to blog, but I have tried several times this week only to find that my only content is Bitching About Work, and Boring Fitness Stories. So, in an effort to not fall back onto those two old faithful topics, here's some random bullet points about other things in my life:

My pet bird has a broken feather. He keeps yanking on it, and getting it caught in the bars of the cage, and squawking in pain.
We went out for dinner last night at a Trendy restaurant. Definition of Trendy: it was packed with young folk in fashionable outfits, the lights were dimmed down low, curtains were slung around the place, and the seats were actually cushions on the floor. Needless to say, with my jeans/singlet combo and lack of shiny accessories, I did not fit in. While we were waiting in the bar area, I was almost swallowed by a bean bag.
Beardie and I visited DFO today for the first time, after hearing so much about its 'shopping mecca' status. It was large, but not quite the size of a small country, and contained some cheap prices, but also some expensive ones too, and we bought some square, black plates. Because food tastes better when it is served on stylish crockery, you see.

WINTER COAT:

Speaking of winter, the weather is coming along very nicely. Despite my Driver's Arm sunburn suggesting the contrary, the mornings and evenings are cool, and I get to wear hoodies sometimes. Hoodies are only second in the Comfort Clothing category to my fat pants.

We gave some friends a lift into the Valley for dinner last night, and I was faced with a Reverse Parking dilemma. Dilemma = I was forced to reverse park. I have not really tried reverse parking since I actually passed my test, and therefore had one of those comical moments where I drive a little bit forward, and then drive a little bit backwards, repeat forty times, etc. I was paid out for it, which was well-deserved, but it has left my driving ego slightly bruised. I am thinking that if I want to upgrade my licence in two weeks, I need to brush up on some skills quite quickly indeed.

Sigh.

(P.S. Work blows.)

2009-04-10T07:58:00.008+10:00

Reading: I've just finished Vile Bodies by Evelyn Waugh. It did not float my boat. It was such a bore. It was boredom-making. I have heard that it is some type of highly-acclaimed, insightful social commentary, but methinks it was perhaps much more valid in the 1930's than it is so many years later. I suspect it is most likely one of those books that I just Don't Get. And I am very glad to be rid of it. Now I get to choose a new book to read, which makes my heart all a-flutter.

Watching: a few different things, but I am devastated that United States of Tara is now off the air until 2010. Multiple personality Toni Collette is my favourite Toni Collette.

Going: to the movies. Beardie and I went and saw a movie which cements our reputations as the nerdiest nerds that the realm of nerds has ever known, i.e. Dragonball Evolution. Yeah! It wasn't bad. Goku's hair wasn't big enough and Piccolo was missing his little antennae things. We probably could've waited for the DVD release.

Spotting: a blogger at the gym! A real-life blogger, in person! However, it wasn't actually anyone I read regularly - just a random Brisbane blog I stumbled on one day and spent a few minutes looking at. This girl walked into my class and I just couldn't work out where I'd seen her before, until all of a sudden it dawned on me and I inwardly exclaimed "OMG, I have seen her off the interwebz!" I don't know why I was so terribly excited by this.

Doing: not an awful lot.

Piano is on hold until May, with a brand-new teacher who is just down the road from me.
Herbie is doing well, and is growing impressively despite having bits snipped off him all the time.
I am continuing to lose little bits of pudge here and there, very slowly indeed.
Work is killing me, as per usual. I did actually get a heap of feedback following that e-mail I sent to the Director and I am slightly daunted by everything they want me to do before I can get a job down there. Where I am going to find the time to complete a billion training courses, I don't know.
The plan for Easter is to buy a coat (this is outside of the buying-new-clothes ban, because yesterday was fricking cold and I don't want to spend this winter shivering) and go for a drive to a cave to look at some glow worms.

Lovely.

2009-04-03T10:48:00.003+10:00

Today is Random Photo Friday!

This my herb garden. I went to Bunnings (I LOVE BUNNINGS), bought the bits, and then made it with my own two hands. I would give it a name, but can't come up with anything more imaginative than "Herbie". And now I just have to learn to cook something other than vegetables and meat so that I can actually use the bloody things.

Another Threadless order arrived! I love Threadless. Jesus is breakdancing!

So I have the day off to go to the dentist and I expect to be prodded and poked with sharp metal hooks and that horrible thing that blows gusts of air into your mouth. But 6-monthly check-ups are good for the whole Dental Health thing, and I plan to keep them up to try and avoid another disgusting abscess and subsequent root canal. Dentists = lovely.

I have a couple of other things to do as well, another driving lesson, a new battery for my watch, some new stockings OMG WHAT AN EXCITING DAY.

But, I am not at work, so hoo-fricking-ray, I say.

There's a shitload of changes afoot at work at the moment, which is not unusual, and if you want to survive working there you need to be really adaptable to change. I am cool with change. I am all "Oh, a change? Yeah, that's cool." But I coach somebody who hates change, and every time there is a change she sits next to me and complains into my ear for HOURS. And being bombarded with negative vibes kinda gets me down.

So besides feeling a bit down, I decided to e-mail the Director about that job that I didn't get. Yes, I was feeling a bit ballsy. And I said "hey, yo, why didn't I get an interview, you bastard?" except, you know, worded all professional-like. And he replied saying he had forwarded the e-mail to one of the panel members, and thanked me for my interest in his Section. And that's the end of the story.

It's the end of the fourth week of my fitness thingy. I realised earlier that this is the first time I have ever stuck to any type of self-improvement thing for more than two weeks, so I am a bit chuffed.

But I figure there's still six weeks left for me to completely cock it up in some way.

2009-03-28T07:59:00.003+10:00

Trinny & Susannah are in town! They are going to the shopping centre just around the corner from my house, and I am wondering if I should go along to learn how to Dress Proper, and not look so frumpy and dishevelled all the time. Maybe I could even have my own personal fashion analysis, which I fear would go like this:

Trinny: Your arse looks terribly fat in those pants.
Me: Oh. Um.
Susannah: And that top! Your tits look like two lumpy potatoes.
Me: Uh.
Trinny: You look like a prostitute.
Me: I thought I was dressed quite modestly...
Susannah: HOOKER!
Trinny: SLAG!

Etc.

Maybe I won't go along, after all.

In brief:

I finally bought what I needed to start playing with my dodgy Thailand video on my PC, only to discover that my video camera (which is apparently a dinosaur at the ripe old age of 2) is now being an utter bitch and is incompatible with everything. So now I have to get a new camera.
I am taking this week off The Piano as I've finished all the lessons that I have paid for and need to commit to another 10-week term. Before handing out large wads of cash, I've decided to check out a place which is closer to home this week, to see if I can get the same thing without the long drive.
I think that the Chrimbo gut is pretty much gone, revealing the long-standing Beer Gut I have had for so long. Getting rid of something which has been so firmly attached to my body since my teens is not going to be easy, but I've got 7 weeks left to try.
My manual driving test is booked for the 28th of April, hoorah! Sometimes I forget I have a clutch, and stall the car, and accelerate wildly towards red lights, but hey. I'm sure I've got a shot.

I hope you have had a spectacular week. Full of rainbows and lollipops, etc.

2009-03-18T16:01:00.003+10:00

Life update:

Two weeks into the ten-week fitness thingo and my Bangkok bulge has pretty much gone. Hoorah! I expect that the sudden shock of going from HUGE meals and an abundance of ice cream to my usual stressed self who runs around and forgets to eat has done the trick. Now to work on my Chrimbo gut for the remaining eight weeks, which I am thinking won't be as easy. I've started taking tennis lessons (despite being incredibly uncoordinated) and have had my arse kicked at the gym a few times, too. I am even being careful with what I eat and resisting the temptation to jam chocolate in my mouth when my energy is feeling low, or when people piss me off. "Just eight weeks to go" is my internal mantra as I eye off the blocks of white chocolate Kit Kat in the supermarket.

Meanwhile, Beardie has decided he also wants to lose some weight, and has started the Tony "Creepy" Ferguson diet like the big cheater that he is.

Would you trust this man?

I am powering through books at the moment, and have actually started reading on the bus again after a long stint of listening to music and staring wistfully out the window. I have just started Everything is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer, which has made me laugh out loud several times so far and therefore I love it, and just finished reading Sputnik Sweetheart by Haruki Murakami. If you have read this book, can you please explain what the frick the end of it means, because I was confused as hell. I think I was distracted by the drawn-out beginning and wasn't expecting it to turn all crazy.

Today I have had a productive day off, as I have had my car serviced and been to visit my mum for lunch. In today's episode of The Sordid Lives of the Mountain Dwellers!!!!:

[In David Jones, my mother, brother and I walk around the menswear section, looking for t-shirts for my brother.]

Mum: A lot of the clothes here are very gay, aren't they.
Me: MUM.
Mum: Well they are. [Mum checks the price on a shirt nearby, splutters loudly]
Me: Hmm?
Mum: THIS SHIRT IS $60 [several DJ staff glance in our direction]
Me: [ushering Mum away] they've got a mix here, some expensive clothes and some cheaper clothes too.
Mum: Hmph.

[a moment passes]

Mum: Our nextdoor neighbour's house was struck by lightning during the storm the other day. All of his chickens died.
Me: Oh, really?
Mum: Mm.

Never a dull moment. I am off to re-learn how to drive a manual car so that I can eventually upgrade from my Little Green Shitbox. I am going to count how many times I stall it, and crunch the gears. I expect it will be many.

2009-03-11T20:16:00.002+10:00

My boobs are shrinking.

Am I sure? Well, I wore a top today which normally is quite booby, and it wasn't anywhere near as booby. And when questioning Beardie, he performed his Grope Test (the official test of the Boob Shrinkage Committee) and he agreed with me.

You see, I have stopped taking the No Babies Pill. This is because after taking it for about a year and a half, I have finally realised that what it does to my body is not just an adjustment phase I'm going through. What it does to me is what it's going to do to me, forever and ever, if I stay on it. And what it does to me is make me feel like a barren old hag, and give me crappy skin (plus some other things, but this post is a little TMI already), so I quit.

Apparently, what the NBP also did was inflate my boobs.

Who knew! I didn't, and I'm part of the girlfolk. Google knew.

I am just hoping that the bastard pill doesn't wreak its bitter revenge upon me by shrinking them smaller than they ever have been before. Because I would like to keep my boobs, please.

You hear that, hormones? Boobs = yes.

Sigh.

(For the life of me I could not find or draw a picture to attach to this post. Though searching Google for suitable pictures has definitely exceeded my porn quota for the day.)

2009-03-08T13:12:00.004+10:00

So my ten week fitness thingy starts tomorrow. As I know myself quite well, I am predicting that I will be full of enthusiasm for the first week, and that it will slowly decrease from there. Though I am quite determined to at least get somewhere with it, so that my work clothes fit me properly again. I am giving myself an incentive, which is that I am not allowed to purchase any new item of clothing until I have lost my pad thai pudge. Which works well because a) it makes no sense to buy clothes if I am trying to lose weight, b) it hurts me deeply, because of my addiction to wandering around and buying random clothes (most of which I never wear), c) it saves me money, and makes me feel like a sensible grown-up person.

Whether I have the willpower, time will tell.

The trip away had me thinking about a lot of things, aside from my gut:

Work. I was constantly thinking about the two jobs I had applied for (which both came to nothing, bah), but more than ever, having three weeks away made me really dread coming back. I guess this is a normal feeling, and there's not many people who love their jobs, etc. etc., but I am thinking that I should at least be trying to find a job which makes me happy. I suspect I have dug myself into a bit of a hole with the career path I have been following, as I'm just racking up more and more experience in people management/team leading when I have no desire to do it, whatsoever. I hate that with each day that passes, I am losing more of the technical/system knowledge that I need to go where I want to go. But what to do? Keep looking on Seek, I guess.

Achieving something. I was dreading my piano lesson yesterday. Not only because I hadn't played for three weeks, but because I thought I was doing My Usual and getting to the point of quitting, because I'm a lazy cow. But I went along, and ended up coming home all inspired to keep trying. My piano teacher is in love with music, and I don't mean following the Top 40 or what's new; she lives and breathes the sounds and the feelings and gets so excited over new pieces. I know that I have the capability, I just need to keep the lazy at bay. Perhaps one day I can add "can play piano" to my list of talents, which currently contains "can spell reasonably well" and "can type fast".

Other people. I am constantly analysing both myself and others. People with incredibly active social lives, who are constantly replying to phone calls/text messages from friends, who have every evening and their entire weekend planned from start to finish with non-stop excitement. I look at myself, who may go to drinks/dinner/etc. maybe once in a fortnight, and whose main contact with another person is Beardie, sometimes virtually through an MMORPG, and I wonder if I'm missing out on something? I've done personality tests, Myers-Briggs and all that jazz, and they all tell me that I'm an introvert (no shit, eh?), and I am pretty accepting of this. Yet I still feel inadequate, that I need to make more effort to interact with others, join a club or something, I don't know.

Yes, today is Introspective Sunday.

I hope that yours has been tip top.

2009-03-05T19:48:00.003+10:00

So I was expecting a horrendous first week back at work, but in all honesty, it hasn't been that bad. This is because after one day of being back, I felt as though I had never left. So because my work is all-consuming and sucks the life and memories out of me, I didn't have too much trouble settling back in. Hooray!

Also, I think I can finally say that both jobs that I applied for have brutally rejected me. The first has only sent me an e-mail to say "you will be contacted by phone if you have been successful in gaining an interview" (and this was last week), and there has been no contact whatsoever, which is a wee bit shitty given that this is the job in my own department, and I would expect that given I am one of their own I would receive a phone call, an explanation at least, and woah, what an incredibly long sentence, yes? My friend at the second job sent me an e-mail to say it had been filled, and that apparently they had had somebody in mind for it all along. He apologised for wasting my time. That one I am more disappointed about, as it was system development/project work, and that floats my boat.

Alas!

I shall continue on my merry way and keep an eye out.

Whilst I was at work, wearing uncomfortably tight work pants with an overhang of holiday pudge and a waistband so tight my circulation was beginning to fail, I picked up a flyer for a 10 week fitness challenge, starting next week. I immediately joined. I am actually quite enthusiastic about it, figuring that 10 weeks is a good block of time (long enough to make a difference, short enough to see the light at the end of the tunnel), and that I can get in tip top shape and parade about in front of everyone in hot pants and bikini tops in no time! Good plan? Chance of success = shaky. But if I can at least lose my Thai green curry jiggle then I will be happy.

Lovely Lucy recently posted about her Lady Maintenance regime and I was left feeling woefully inadequate. I thought about my own beauty routine, and realised that it consisted of the following:

Haircuts, when I have too many split ends and it looks too ratty.
Showering, daily.
Brushing of teeth, morning and night.
Waxing of the sacred lady area, at home, ~~when I have too many split ends~~ monthly.
Shaving of the underarms/legs, when I am going to wear an outfit that will reveal these areas (for real. In winter, they might not see the light of day for a couple of weeks).
Eyebrow plucking, when needed (well, when I notice).
Chapstick, when my lips are dry.

And that's it. No make-up (though every time I look at the dark lines under my eyes, I consider it), no skin care routine (besides shower gel which smells like mangoes, or some type of fruit), and no visits to the beautician to speak of (I have been professionally waxed once, had a reaction to whatever they put Down There and spent the following week scratching my crotch like a frenzied whore with crabs). And as Lucy is low maintenance, this can only mean that I am a hairy truckie named Barry with questionable personal hygiene.

Sexy indeed.

2009-03-02T20:04:00.007+10:00

So, I am getting the travel post out of the way. Apologies for a billion pictures and RIDICULOUS length, I figured I'd just do it all in one hit and then it's done, and I can go back to blogging about the smelly person on my bus and that one time that somebody laughed at one of my jokes.

This is Buddha. Buddha is everywhere. He is normally gold and shiny.

This is Buddha's head, which was cut off its body a long time ago, was kicked under a tree, and then the tree grew around it. I expect I could find a story about this place that is much more impressive than this. Either way, it is very famous indeed.

Also in Ayutthaya (which is where Buddha's head is) you can find lots and lots of ruined buildings, as the place was trashed by the Burmese 250 years ago. They have semi-restored some, and light them up at night, and they look lovely.

Here is a large market, where you can buy amulets and jumpers and dried fruit and live eels. This market was small compared to some of the ridiculously large markets we lost ourselves in along the way.

Obligatory baby elephant photo!

Here is a man being stomped by an elephant in a wild rampage! Actually, no, it was all part of a show where elephants kicked footballs and threw darts (but not at the crowd) and the like.

Phi Phi Don, with the limestone cliffs and the tourists and the prettiness and all that.

And randomly:

There are BNE stickers alllll over Thailand. It was very puzzling.

Thailand has some incredibly colourful buses!

So in short (yeah, right), Bangkok is incredibly dense, thick with pollution and scantily-clad tourists, and touts who will try and scam your money at every opportunity. We indulged in standard tourist behaviour, and ate a great deal, drank quite a bit, and bought t-shirts/jewellery/rubbish for ridiculously low prices.

Kanchanaburi, and the Bridge over the River Kwai were fascinating, and incredibly sad. We visited the Death Railway museum and were amazed at the things we didn't know and the stories we had never heard. If we visit Thailand again, we will visit Kanchanaburi again for much longer.

Ayutthaya was beautiful and full of history. I was interviewed by Thai students as part of their English studies. I am not sure that a red-faced, sweaty girl, giggling like a git, is the best tutor in the English language. But the ladyboy student said I was pretty.

Chiang Mai was by far the best place we visited, with elephants, and white water rafting, and an incredible temple on top of a mountain at Doi Suthep (very, very tall stairs in new profile photo to the right), and a really great vibe.

Phuket was where we gave in to our Western indulgences and scoffed McDonald's, KFC, pizza and donuts. Beardie was trying to recover from his gut trouble by eating at the places he recognised, and I joined him because, well, because I guess I was just feeling like a gigantic lardarse. In fact, on top of my Christmas gut expansion I am now sporting a major Thailand gut, which means I am packing one hell of an expansion pack right now. My loose work pants were considerably tighter this morning. I am expecting to make some major life changes and start some type of diet/exercise regime. Soon.

Oh, and following on from that little tangent, we went to Maya Bay, home of The Beach, and there were so many tourist boats there that I couldn't actually see The Beach, unfortunately. Alas!

And....... breathe.

Back to the usual boring shit.

2009-02-25T23:30:00.003+10:00

So we are back in Bangkok, for our final two nights before heading home. It's sad to know that I'll be returning to work on Monday, and my days as wanderer/traveller are over for a while, but I'm happy about the comforts: sleeping in the same bed for several nights in a row, being able to wash my clothes whenever I want to, and living out of a house instead of a bag. That kind of thing.

It's been a great experience. I'll blog more detail about it all later. I know there'll be some adjusting to do when I get home, i.e. I won't be able to barter quite as much, and when I want a taxi I'll have to call Black & White Cabs, or hail one in the city, because they will no longer be clamouring to give me a ride every time I walk past. Plus there's just not enough bar girls in slinky dresses sitting around outside restaurants to entice customers at home, goshdarnit.

The thing I am looking forward to the least: getting up at 5:45am on Monday morning to get ready for work. My brain is going to think that it is 2:45am, Bangkok time. I asked for extra days off to try and adjust, but I wasn't able to get any longer than the three weeks. My first day back is going to be very miserable indeed.

I finished High Fidelity by Nick Hornby on the flight this morning, and it is the first book which I have really thoroughly enjoyed in quite a while. It is brutally frank about relationships, and what we feel versus what we are supposed to feel, and the true selfishness behind some of the things we do. Plus, it made me giggle out loud, and that hardly happens with any books, ever.

Next time I blog I'll be on Australian soil. There'll be pictures and the like. And if I ever get my firewire working, there'll be dodgy, shitty, wobbly video footage with my crappy commentary in the background.

Exciting much?

2009-02-21T16:35:00.004+10:00

Travel, etc.

Ailments, injuries, etc.: A torn fingernail from whitewater rafting (it has turned half my nail a lovely purply-brown colour), several hundred mosquito bites, and Beardie has only just recovered from a bad case of [insert town]-belly, which has seen him up most of the night, clutching his stomach and moaning. And, of course, making the toilet his friend. Our best guess at the culprit is a strange sausage-contained-in-a-waffle (on a stick) from a street vendor at Doi Suthep. Strange combos like this can only be bad news.

Stress, worry, etc.: No holiday would be complete without the obligatory thoughts of work and the associated bullshit. Having applied for two jobs directly before leaving for Thailand, I have heard nothing back at all, so of course my mind is full of what-if's and oh-no's and hmm-maybe's. If anyone knows how to turn my stupid brain off, please let me know.

Causing offence, etc.: At the temple at Doi Suthep, Beardie and I removed our shoes, as is required in these places. As we were leaving, we walked back to our shoes, and a monk was standing directly next to them. I had placed the shoes behind a pillar, and as monks aren't allowed to really come into any kind of contact with girls at all, I stretched my foot out and deftly picked up the shoes with my nimble toes. That is, I pointed my foot directly at the monk. Beardie hurriedly pulled me aside and pointed out my grave insult afterwards. So, I can only guess that I am most likely going to suffer eternal damnation (or the Buddhist equivalent. Reincarnation as something incredibly shitty?). The monk walked off looking quite disgusted. Would this holiday be complete if I didn't cause extreme offence to people? Sigh.

Travel bug, etc.: In between being offered ping pong shows, endless tuk tuk rides and tailored suits, and sweating like a pig, I appear to have been bitten by the travel bug again, well and truly. I am already excitedly talking about where I want to go next, and that we have to start planning as soon as we get home so that we have something to look forward to, etc. These itchy feet are going to be very bloody expensive.

So while I was thinking that three weeks would not be enough time, I am beginning to feel like this is the longest holiday ever (and is therefore awesome). I guess work makes time fly by at a ridiculous rate, and spending your days wandering, taking photos and recording dodgy footage is a luxury I'm not used to. We have arrived in Phuket and we are mid-way through exploring. Tomorrow, we are gibbon-spotting and on Monday we are off boating, to have our very own Leonardo moment. But with a lot more tourists.

Lovely!

2009-02-08T07:50:00.002+10:00

I have been so, so ridiculously busy this past week. Staying back at work until Stupid O'clock every night, having a friend text me to say that a great job is available at his work, rushing to apply for said job by meeting with a recruitment agent, panicking that I could be offered the other job I applied for and this one at the same time (don't ask me why my brain thinks that this is likely, but I have no idea what I would do if this occurred), work work work more work, etc.

So, before I know it, I am flying to Thailand in five hours.

Beardie keeps asking me if I'm excited yet, and everything has been so hectic lately that I haven't been able to give excited a chance. I am hoping that it kicks in when we are at the airport.

Rough itinerary (for people who like itineraries): Bangkok, Kanchanaburi, back to Bangkok, Ayutthaya (day trip), Chiang Mai, Phuket (possibly Phi Phi, haven't booked this part yet), Bangkok, home.

So I better get my shit together, and I'll be back in three weeks.

Hurrah!

2009-01-30T19:22:00.003+10:00

So I was on the bus home just a little while ago, and my phone started buzzing. I pulled it out of my bag and looked at the display, which read:

Ex-BF

Well, it was actually his name, but, you know. For the blog's sake. But not my most recent ex, but the one before that. The first ex. Who I haven't actually seen or spoken to in, oh, FOUR YEARS?

So I whigged out a bit. I couldn't help it. I like to think that I am a grown-up who can handle these situations, but obviously I am a sissy girlpants. I just stared at the phone, and then it stopped buzzing. He left me voicemail.

I hopped off the bus and walked home, wondering what it could possibly be about. Perhaps something had happened in his life and for some reason, he wanted to talk to me about it? Maybe he just wondered where we both were at after a few years? I listened to the message:

"Hi. It's Ex-BF, you might remember me. I was just curious to see if you still had this number. I still have it in my phone, for some silly reason. Anyway, bye."

Thoughts:

I never noticed what a major bogan accent he has.
He doesn't sound friendly in the slightest.
WTF kind of message is that?
Curious if I still had the number, how about "curious about you, how you're doing" etc.
For some silly reason? Way to compliment a girl.
TWAT.

And I felt really annoyed.

This is following the text message I received earlier in the week from my ex (the other one) which annoyed the shit out of me, too.

So I can conclude the following:

There is something going on with the alignment of the planets, or the lunar cycle, or something, that is making people from my past get in touch with me.
I am very easily annoyed (possibly because of planet alignment or lunar cycle).

MEANWHILE!

The girl sitting in front of me on the bus had the most ridiculous hair that I have ever seen. I wanted to take a picture of it, but there were too many people around me and it would've looked suss. Instead, here is an incredibly lifelike drawing.

It was a big, fluffy, knotty birds nest. She was young and hip though, and you see, this is why I will never, ever be a fashionable person.

2009-01-26T21:02:00.004+10:00

Hidey ho! And a very happy Australia Day, etc. etc. We have spent it lounging about, trying to frantically organise a trip which is now less than two weeks away, and having a barbeque on the deck (because it would be un-Austrayan not to). In response to the comments on the previous post, may I present:

A random selection of the worst resumes to be received by anyone, ever!

People who don't live in Australia. Seriously, how are you going to come in for an interview if you live in Jerusalem? And I am all for equal opportunity, but closer than 14000km to your place of employment is kind of a requirement.
The girl who was fresh from high school, and listed her qualities as follows:

quick learner, good with customers, fast learner,

Never mind the fact that she's left a comma at the end, suggesting she meant to put some other qualities down but couldn't be arsed. I'm more interested in the fact that she has put the same quality down twice, with a replacement synonymous adjective. I can only think that she must be trying to really stress the point.
People whose cover letters read like Nigerian e-mail scams.

Hello, Friend. I write you in respect, trust and humanity and honourably seek your assistance (etc.)

Funnily enough, from somebody in Nigeria. Please refer to first point about living a bit too far away for the job.
People who have managed to submit an application for the wrong job entirely. "I am very interested in this job with the Police Service." Eh? What?
People who stress their religious beliefs in their resume. I don't want to know about the many times you have participated in church activities. And yes, I see that Reverend FancyPants is listed as your referee. And if your Employment Objective says something about following God's will then I am officially put off. Nobody wants a Bible basher in their team, really. Harsh but true.

That's all I can come up with right now. I seem to have already pushed the others out of my memory. I must've gone to my happy place to escape the pain.

And the best:

Actually, I'm not sure I can do a list of these, because the good ones all had the same qualities. Detailed, thorough responses to the criteria which showed that they hadn't just submitted a generic resume which had probably been submitted for a hundred others. Experience that was relevant, or wording that made it seem so. Correct spelling and grammar. And that's really about it.

Doesn't seem so exceptional, really.

On the subject of shitty, ridiculous government selection criteria, the great truth behind it is...

It is absolute bollocks. Buzzwords, jargon, bullshit, fluff. The people doing the shortlisting will most likely just have a sheet of paper with a few different boxes that they need to tick. If you mention the magic words, and apply them to your work experience, then you get a tick. Enough ticks equals an interview (and the bullshit of the interview is worth a blog post in itself). If you look at the key words, and write something which specifically mentions that skill in relation to your work experience, tick.

Of course, it then all comes down to who is doing the shortlisting. If it is an absolute twat, then good luck.

This weekend I have found myself putting these new found skills to use on an application of my own. I've decided to apply for a job within the same agency I currently work for, which will see me working in a more technical, system-based environment (no people management, no customers, hoorah!), but with a 10k paycut. Ouch. But hooray! But ouch.

The recruitment agent from the other day is also chasing me "to discuss options", so we will see what happens.

I think I seriously just need to go into business for myself and leave this bullshit behind.

2009-01-21T18:51:00.004+10:00

There is an intensive recruitment process going on at work at the moment, and while my upcoming visit to Thailand means I won't be involved in any of the interviews, I am helping with the shortlisting. And seriously, What. A. Nightmare.

Now don't get me wrong, every now and then I will come across a resume that knocks my socks off, but 95% of them are absolute, utter shit. After a total of ten hours spent in a room (and I'm not finished yet), pulling my hair out, I can only conclude the following:

People put in applications for jobs that they don't actually want
People think that having a background at Just Hooters will land them a job in IT
People are stupid
People don't bother trying to make an impression, as though landing a job is just the luck of being randomly picked
There is some grand plan in place by somebody who is trying to torture me through extreme time wastage
The world would be a better place if somebody invented a Shit Filter to save me hours of my life
Aforementioned filter could work by immediately deleting a resume which misspells the word "rapport"
(Most recent variations are "rapors" and "repour")

Though I have really learnt a lesson about how to compose a good resume. I'm finding myself skipping over sections with a loud pffffft noise, when I've included those sections in my own resume in the past. It all becomes far more valid when I'm suddenly doing the picking.

Moving on!

BUS STOP GRAFFITI:

How gay is Callum? How gay is Callum? Is it a rhetorical question? There is no question mark at the end. Or should I ponder this, and give him a score out of ten, with 1 = a rugged, hairy bear-type labourer in the closet and 10 = Carson off that How to Look Good Naked show? I don't know who Callum is. Why have you given me a question which I can't possibly answer, mysterious bus stop vandal?

I love ale! What a peculiar thing to scratch into a chair. It is very different to the standard graffiti around the place, which mainly involves calling somebody a slut or is completely illegible. And what sort of young hooligan refers to his beverage of choice as "ale" these days? Unless this is New Thing that I'm yet to get the inside goss on. Behind the times, etc.

2009-01-14T15:41:00.002+10:00

I'm at home today. I have the day off work, and I'm waiting for a delivery, which means that I basically have to sit at home until its delivered.

What a pity (!!!).

I have been watching the Special Features on the Spaced DVD box set I was given for Christmas. I have had a huge crush on Simon Pegg's character in that show ever since I saw it for the first time, and I think I have come up with a list of the features that make him such a dreamboat. Ahem:

He has a beard.
He works in a comic book shop.
He is artistically talented.
He is bursting with pop culture references.
He rides a skateboard (what! You don't think it's cool to ride a skateboard well into your late twenties? Come on now.)
He often wears button-up shirts over the top of long-sleeve t-shirts (don't ask me what it is, it just floats my boat).

Swoon.

This of course means that I am strangely attracted to men who act as though they are 15. I am unsure how Beardie should interpret this.

My Spaced memories are the only thing redeeming Simon Pegg in my mind at the moment, given that his latest movies are absolute bollocks.

Meanwhile! My latest musical obsession is Sia. How did I not know that she existed?

Meanwhile #2! Actually, I have no #2.

Oh, wait! I called a recruitment agent today. I thought that a day not spent at work would be a good opportunity to call, seeing as its my last day off before Thailand next month. However, he didn't answer, and I left a message which he hasn't yet returned. This could mean that a) he's really busy, or b) I sounded like a giggly 12 year old. Likely answer: b.

I feel like doing something creative, making a video or something. Damn this Youtube for inspiring me, but being too addictive for me to leave my desk and do anything about it.

2009-01-12T18:50:00.004+10:00

I hate doing stuff on the weekend.

Give me a weekend where I sleep in and then sit around all day, playing with my computer and watching DVD's, please. And then I actually feel like I've had a break. Give me a weekend where I have Things To Do, and I'm back at work before I know it. And it blows.

On Saturday, I:

Left the house at 9am for my piano lesson. My old teacher left before Christmas, so I have switched from being taught by a quirky boy, to a quirky girl. She has red hair and has met Tori Amos. I am learning Moonlight Sonata. All is well in piano land.
As I was on the North side, I didn't fancy driving all the way back home, as I knew I would be heading out to the same area again that afternoon. So I went to a nearby shopping centre. I had my hair cut, so that it is pretty much the same, but with some wispy bits. I was a bit concerned the hairdresser seemed to focus on thinning out my hair as much as possible, but it seems to have turned out ok. But a little thin.
Following this, I picked up a couple of things I needed, splurged on some fancy tea, and bought perfume. In other words, I spent a shitload. Next time I am wanting to kill a couple of hours, could somebody please remind me that going to a large building full of shops is not the best, or most cost-efficient idea.
I had lunch. I ate sushi in my car, and spilt soy sauce all over my pants.
With my brown splodgy pants, I went to a tupperware party. That is, I went to the first tupperware party of my life. I am not totally into parties where the discussion revolves around various types of containers, but I made an exception. The friend who was holding the party is quirky, and awesome, and I thought it was going to be a quirky and awesome tupperware party. ALAS. I sat down, completely clueless about what I was supposed to do and tried to join in with the closest conversation:

Tupperware Lover #1: Ooh, there's so much I want to buy!
TL#2: Oh, me too. Did you know they are discontinuing this line? [jabs finger at booklet]
TL#1: [gasps] What? But it's so beautiful!
TL#2: The Winter catalogue will be out soon, I can hardly wait!
Me: [zones out for ten minutes]
TL#1: So what are you going to buy, RAT?
Me: [jolts back to consciousness] Oh, some plastic containers, I think.
TL#1 & TL#2: [simultaneously laugh heartily at the tupperware noob]

So I bought my obligatory plastic containers, and said my goodbyes, and vowed to never go to a tupperware party again. The tupperware lady asked me if I wanted to host my own party, to which I outwardly said "no, thanks" and inwardly screamed "HELL NO!"
Went home for half an hour. Blabbed about my day so far to Beardie.
Went to dinner with friends. Had Peking Duck, for the first time ever. Eating duck skin pancakes was quite interesting, and tasty, and I had a lovely time. Discussed such things as downloading John Cleese's voice for my GPS, and dodgy movie remakes.
Went home, collapsed in a heap for a few minutes before going to bed.

I tried to make up for this day in the best way I could, by sitting around in fat pants all day on Sunday. You people with your busy social lives must be nuts.

2009-01-08T18:11:00.003+10:00

Day One was hard. Way, way hard. I pity anyone who had to speak to me on that morning, for it would not have been a pleasurable experience. I was thankful of my corner desk with its high partitions as I slunk down, sipping at my water (damn this giving up caffeine bullshit) and hoping that nobody would speak to me. As the day wore on, it was at about midday that I suddenly started to feel human. And then I realised that what I meant by feeling 'human' was actually feeling as though I hadn't been on leave, at all.

Oh, the joys of being back at work.

Day Four has finished and I am officially back in work mode, with a calendar jam-packed with meetings and the stress creeping into my brain and my body.

Bollocks.

I have actually been giving quite a bit of thought to work over the Christmas break, and thinking about the prospect of working in this job for the next 12 months has made it pretty clear that it's not where I really want to be. I had my doubts about taking the job in the first place for this same reason, however I don't regret accepting it at all. It has forced me to grow some balls, and while they are still tiny, it is a vast improvement over my previous lack of balls. And being an official part of Management looks fancy on my resume.

But, yes, I don't want to stay here, so I have formed a bit of a mental plan. How I love mental plans. If Mental as Anything and Simple Plan formed a joint band, they would be called Mental Plan. And because my mind wanders like this, I am now watching Mental as Anything videos on Youtube. Whatever happened to Yahoo Serious?

Plan: keep working through until my three weeks leave in February. My calendar is already planned out for this time, with the meetings, and some training, and general shit. Then, I'm in Thailand until the beginning of March. And when I get back, I am going to start checking out my options. A former co-worker has given me the name of a recruitment agent who helped him land a job where he is earning a shitload more than me, for doing system work, so he is worth a shot too.

Before I turn this into yet another boring work ramble (oops, too late!) I will just say that the prospect of moving to another job shits me, when I feel so settled, but the idea of being a people manager who finds people stressful for years makes me unhappy. So. Whatever.

Meanwhile, Beardie is convinced that this shirt from Threadless makes me appear to be a psychopath, whereas I think that it is certifiably hi-larious. I may just have to wear it to work and find out.

2008-12-31T08:11:00.002+10:00

So, it is New Years Eve. Once again, I have planned diddly squat. Here are my options:

Try my luck in the city, with the crowding, and the hours of waiting for a taxi, etc.
Accept the invite of a work friend and head up the coast to watch the fireworks and drink wine. Downsides being we have no place to stay up there, so I'd be limited to inhaling the scent of the wine rather than drinking any, because I would need to drive home afterwards and I am a giant cadbury.
Sit at home with beers and watch the fireworks on TV.
Sit at home with beers and watch a DVD, and pretend it isn't happening.

Option Four is looking quite tempting.

There are some people who hate Christmas, so I figure that I am allowed to hate New Years. The biggest, most ridiculous build-up, for a night that is inevitably a let-down, because there's just too many fricking people out who are insanely drunk and driving me mental. Yep, I think that New Years is maybe not the best event for somebody who isn't a fan of people. Despite this, I am still in two minds about what to do, because saying that I sat at home and watched Battle Royale instead of some elaborate celebration will most likely make me seem lame.

I am thinking that I should maybe just accept that I Am Lame, and move on.

2008-12-28T17:26:00.004+10:00

I am lazy. La-la-lazy. Take me away from work and put me at home with no plans whatsoever, and watch me turn into a gluttonous procrastinator who takes frequent naps. I have made a mental list of all the things I should really do over this Christmas break, and my plan of attack so far has been to lay on the couch a lot, and play Fable II until my eyes are so bloodshot that I look like I celebrated Christmas by smoking a small mountain of pot.

In fact, right now I am currently experiencing a high of the most energy I have had so far these holidays, and rather than cleaning up this sty of a house, or planning next year's trip away, I'm putting it to good use on this here blog, before I go out to gorge myself on Thai food.

Cirque du Soleil: Last night, Beardie and I went out to see hundreds of circus freaks prance about on stage, and it was absolutely awesome. Beardie had splurged and bought VIP tickets, which meant that we ended up in a la-de-da tent with other similarly posh people, drinking free booze (FREE, NEVER ENDING BOOZE) and snacking on hors d'oeuvres (and one day, I hope to be able to spell that without looking it up). My favourite was super bendy girl (total freak of nature) and the boys who jump through small hoops. Hoorah!

And now for a full, feature-length episode of The Sordid Lives of the Mountain Dwellers!!!!!: On Boxing Day, Beardie and I traipsed out into woop-woop to go and see mumsy and bro for some merry Christmas cheer. We stopped at the local country pub (the kind of place where the bearded locals put down their beers and stare at you when you arrive) for a bite to eat.

Mum: Pineapple juice! Do you know what it has in it?
Me: [shakes head]
Mum: MAGNESIUM! And hardly anything has magnesium in it these days. Oh and the neighbour's ducks are at my front door every morning now. One of them was shot by our other neighbour and then lay there in the sun for hours, its blood congealing...
Me: [spluttering] Mum!
Mum: [laughs] Oh sorry. So, Beardie, since the last time I saw you, you look... how do you say it.. fuller?
Me: [chokes] MUM!
Mum: Oh, I don't mean it as an insult. You were too thin the last time I saw you. Now you're average. [to my brother] Tsk, you're drinking Coke. It doesn't even tell you that it has aspartame in it, you know. Oh, it's not diet. Well it doesn't even tell you it has six teaspoons of sugar in it, you know.
Bro: [guzzles drink, making Mmmm noises]

Christmas cheer: for the first time that I can remember, I have visibly gained weight over Christmas. I am normally not that much of an overindulger, but this year my gut is noticeably bigger, and I don't like it one bit. Unfortunately, the whole house is so jam-packed with chocolate, jelly beans, and leftover candy canes, that my chances of making any difference are not that crash hot. But I have decided to at least try and go to the gym next week, to try and pilates my gut away. We shall see.

I hope your Christmas has been very merry indeed.

2008-12-19T18:31:00.002+10:00

Friday, glorious Friday. Plans for the weekend:

Piano lesson tomorrow morning (and I can play the fast staccato-ey bit of Für Elise with almost no mistakes, so I expect my teacher to congratulate me as if I am a toddler who just did my first wee in the grown-up toilet, or I'll be upset).
Christmas carols tomorrow night, via the television. I missed going to the real-live carols (the perils of late-afternoon napping) so I am going to sit on the couch, air conditioner puffing away, and get boozed while I sing at the top of my lungs. Beardie's participation in this ear-bleeding punishment is doubtful.
Avoidance of all shops, and of going outside in general. Due to the major case of the crazies that has struck everyone in this pre-Christmas madness. So yes, crazy people, and also I hatehatehate it when people stalk me for my car park.
Finish off the pack of Fantales on my desk.
Ah, shit! I have just realised that I have to go out this weekend, because I need to buy rum balls and candy canes and various other edible things to give to people at work. Bugger.
Contemplating how I managed to land the dodgiest Secret Santa present in the history of dodgy presents. I spent hours hunting through shops to buy something ideal for my person, and I am repaid with a plastic toy which is supposed to shoot bubbles, but doesn't really work properly. Yes, I shouldn't be ungrateful, but I think that whoever had me must've had about $8 change left out of the $10 budget after buying my gift. Or they found it in a gutter somewhere. Perhaps saying these things makes me a horrible person, but I can only keep The Happy-Lovelies going for so long at work before The Whinge starts spewing out, via blog or all over Beardie.
Thinking of what else I can buy Beardie for Christmas. I am completely stumped. Under the tree, there's currently three more gifts for me than there is for him, and I can't handle it. I am considering wrapping up household items like the kettle, or the toaster, just to bulk up numbers. Normally I am quite good at this stuff, but this year I suck.

And I hope your weekend is very lovely indeed.

2008-12-15T15:38:00.003+10:00

You know, deep down I know that Christmas is a pile of bollocks. And that there's no such thing as a day when everything is perfect, and that the Magic of Christmas is actually the Magic of Spending Heaps o' Cash, etc. etc. Yet! I still get this excited squealy feeling in my stomach when I know Christmas is coming. And I get all soppy and start swaying over old Christmas songs. And we've had our tree up since the end of November, and I put the lights on every night with the blinds slightly open so that we look like Those People who have a Christmas tree with lights on in their window.

I've been wondering why I act this way at Christmas time, and I think I have worked it out. A long time ago, when I was but a wee lass, I was a cynical little turd who thought that Santa was a crock. I would watch the Christmas cartoons and movies and my mum would put up the tree, but I can't remember ever actually believing in Santa, at all. So eventually, as I was the youngest in my family by several years and it was for nobody's benefit but mine, my mum gave up on the tree. We still did presents and the dinner and all of that, but no tree, no decorations, and I didn't really give a rats at the time.

Fast-forward 15 years, and here I am, getting gooey over putting up a freaking tree, having an advent calendar, wrapping presents with silver ribbon and driving people mental by humming Christmas carols wherever I go. If my mother had forced Christmas frivolity onto me well into my teens, I am sure I would be a different person today.

Life update: I am learning Für Elise on the piano and while it's not quite Tori, it's pretty darn cool nonetheless. The speed at which I'm supposed to play it makes me feel like a clumsy, fat-fingered git, but I am trying my hardest, because it beats On Top of Old Smokey by a long shot. If I can ever manage to play it without cocking it up, I will vlog it. In fact, I will vlog the shit out of it, because I am super glad that I am actually almost succeeding at something, and haven't given it up yet, for the first time in a long time.

Today I have the day off (trying to reduce my hours), and have watched an Oprah special on the Olsen twins, and wasted hours on Youtube with Electric Six videos, and the like. Hoorah!

2008-12-08T19:30:00.003+10:00

I went to my work's Christmas party on Friday night. After a very busy week, I was looking forward to drinking, drinking, and drinking some more until I fell asleep in the gutter. There had been predictions of rain, but I figured that we might get a little bit before it passed over, which had been the case for the rest of the week.

Alas, it rained all night. Which does not bode well for a barefoot bowls event.

After our dinner, we huddled under the shelter and chatted. About 80's cartoons and the like. And then as people started filtering away, there was just a handful of us left and the conversation turned to the inevitable subject of work. And listening to work talk, at a heightened volume (i.e. screaming), with the soundtrack of a man vomiting behind our table, started to suck a bit. This, on top of my puffy rain hair, equals not that great a Christmas party, overall.

We sat there politely for a while before putting up our umbrellas and running to wait for our taxi. Y'see, this is the problem with work people. Work people at work functions. Too much work talk. Work. Work work. And God knows I do enough of that on here already. Work work. Work.

On Saturday night we went to a barbeque (yes, two social events in a row, OMGOMGetc) which was full of Beardie's work people. So I got to play the role of Person Who Doesn't Work There, which Beardie had played the night before. Much Singstar (or Screamstar might suit better) ensued, and after crashing the night and eating leftover bacon for breakfast, we headed home.

And today I had a day off work, and had lunch with my mum. In today's episode of The Sordid Lives of the Mountain Dwellers!!!!!!!: "The neighbour's four-year old grandson is a little bastard, who screams all the time! They're raising that child all wrong. Oh, and the neighbour-across-the-road's cat was flattened by a car the other day [said within earshot of large group of children] and it stayed there for days. What a smell! Oh well. You're not covered in tattoos, I see. You're one of a few! Every man and his dog is covered in tattoos!"

My mum and my brother gave me my Christmas present, which consisted of unusual, imported beer. I must look like I need it. And a very boozy Christmas, indeed.

2008-11-30T13:50:00.010+10:00

Just watched:

Taken. If you like Bourne-type movies, then this is right up your alley. Oh, it is so far up your alley. What I thought was going to be 93 minutes of Qui-Gon Jinn faffing about like a git, was actually full of SO much arse-kicking that it has reached its arse-kicking limit. I don't think it is possible to fit more arse-kicking into a movie. And karate chops to the neck. Neck chops, and arse-kicking GALORE. We watched it last night, and had beers, and yelled "yeah!" and "phwoar!"

Currently reading:

My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult. I am ashamed to say how long this book has taken me, and it has absolutely nothing to do with the book and everything to do with the fact that I just haven't been reading lately. I guess it comes down to work, but lately I seem to prefer to put in headphones and zone out when I'm on the bus, rather than read. But! The book! The book is quite good.

Listening to:

The Cassette Kids. They are pretty darn cool. I feel so young and hip right now.

Feeling:

Hot (hot hot), as summer seems to be kicking in, well and truly. My little green shitbox has had to crank up its dusty old air conditioner over the past couple of days, and it doesn't like it one bit. Expect the compulsory summer complaints of "why do I live in this country when I hate the heat so much" to commence shortly.

Doing:

General Sunday stuff. Cleaning. Booking flights to Thailand for February (with a day spent in Brunei on the way there to pop in and say hello to the Sultan). I've put up the Christmas tree and shoved a couple of presents under it. It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas, everywhere you go. Etc. I went to the shops yesterday, and some kids were getting their picture taken with Santa, at a cost of $49.95 to the parents. What the EFF. I swear that shit was free when I was a kid.

Eating:

Gingernut biscuits. Because nobody can deny the awesomeness of the gingernut.

2008-11-26T13:17:00.007+10:00

Some ponderings, on this marvellous day off:

After passing a hazard perception test on the weekend (which was quite miraculous, considering that in one of the test videos I murdered a few pedestrians), I have been considered eligible to upgrade to my open licence. Which is what I just did. I will no longer receive the looks of suspicion and derision that followed my p-plates wherever they went. I can now get away with changing lanes without indicating, swerving into other lanes every time there is a bend in the road [INSERT RANT ABOUT OTHER DRIVERS HERE] etc.

This has me thinking that managing to spend a year driving solo, without crashing into anything or anyone, might mean that I have had a sufficient amount of practice to upgrade my car to something better than the crumply green shitbox I am driving at the moment. And with this thought comes a sudden pang of sadness, because it turns out I have grown quite fond of the shitbox, despite these facts:
- following a head-on collision involving the previous owner, the panel beater has not aligned the engine correctly when repairing, resulting in headlights which point to the floor and the kind of creaks and groans that make me suspect that one day the engine will just fall out onto the road while I'm driving.
- brakes which squeal like a banshee.
- a missing badge on the front, so my car looks like it is a no-name brand.
- a radiator cap which I only managed to take off last weekend, for the first time in a year. Due to the engine alignment problem. Miraculously, it didn't need a top-up.
- a God-awful smell which permeates the house after every time it is driven. Like normal car smell, mixed with a burning heap of tyres.
So, well, maybe I might keep it for a little bit longer yet.
At a super mental Myer shopping event last night, I bought the best underpants ever. They are blue, with red bits, and a red bow, and they are a bit frilly, and awesome. Flinging them around the house last night in the joyous rapture which can only follow the purchase of new underpants, I tried to express my excitement to Beardie.

Me: [squealing] Look! Look, look!!!
Beardie: Why did you buy kids underpants?
Me: [head explodes] They're NOT kids underpants!!1!@
Beardie: They look like kids underpants.
Me: THEY ARE AWESOME.
Beardie: Um. Ok.

I mean, I would be excited for him if HE bought the best underpants ever. Boys just don't get it.
Piano lesson number two is tonight. I appear to suck as much as I did last week, but I am hoping that this progress that everyone speaks of will start to kick in soon. If I spent more time practising today, and less time searching for random videos on YouTube, it could possibly help. Possibly.

2008-11-23T19:20:00.003+10:00

I decided to have a productive Saturday and went to a yoga class. I had been reliably informed that this class was for beginners, and to avoid the more advanced class until I felt more confident.

LIES! Lies, I tell you!

I did a class earlier last week with a different instructor, and that was incredibly tough, but this was like I had walked into flexi-hell. Turns out I am completely stiff with the joints of an eighty-year old. My wrists don't bend the way everyone elses do, my ankles don't bend the way everyone elses do, and I can't balance for shit.

And the funny thing is, I will admit that I always thought that yoga was a bit on the easy side. I mean, I knew it was great for the flexibility, and the inner peace, etc., but as far as improving your fitness goes I would always pick a class that involved jumping around like a loon over the people chanting "om" and crossing their legs a lot.

WRONG! I was so very, very wrong!

After about an hour of having the instructor single me out, correct my position and ask me if I was ok as I gasped, cracked and groaned, I started thinking that my 45 minute class seemed to be running for a really long time. I don't know if it was the last class of the day, or if she just had a lot of free time on her hands, but LUCKY ME, the instructor decided to give everyone a free 90 minute lesson. HOORAY!

Summary: I am completely crippled. Muscles are spasming randomly, and the back muscles I needed to stretch so badly are aching like a bitch. Which I guess is a good thing? It's either a good thing, or I'm dying.

2008-11-20T21:16:00.002+10:00

I am:

lazy. Right now, I can't be arsed doing much of anything at all.

puffy-haired from the storm. It seems to be storm season at the moment, with crazy flooding and the like. A couple of hours ago the rain was coming down sideways, and the hail was rattling against the windows. But now it is all quiet, and we are just left with the occasional flash of lightning off in the distance.

a bit chuffed that I finally dragged my arse to my first piano lesson. The instructor said that I was very good, but I suspect that he is full of lies and deceit to try and convince me to come back for more lessons. But hey, a compliment is a compliment.

also a little bit chuffed that I have made it to the gym, completed a 4-hour pilates workshop and 45 minutes of bending myself into painful positions (i.e. yoga).

in agony, from the above.

stoked that it's Friday tomorrow. And that I have no meetings to run or attend. I plan on sitting quietly at my desk and muttering to myself like a crazy person until it's home time.

a bit giggly, because Beardie gave me flowers today.

trying to get ABBA out of my head.

going to bed. Soon. Me = tired much.

zzzzzzzzzzzz.

2008-11-13T21:15:00.004+10:00

To prove that I am not the ever-procrastinating wench that everyone suspects I am, I have achieved two things:

Booked my first piano lesson. My overwhelming desire to become one of those music people I envy so much has finally led to me setting the date for next Wednesday, and I expect to have transformed into Tori Amos in approximately one month.

Joined a health club and booked in for a health assessment, where I will probably be asked to ride a bike for a while before they pinch my fat with giant pincers. This place is jam-packed with yoga and pilates, which is just what I need for my stupid back with its stupid muscles that suck. I expect to have transformed into a super bendy circus freak in approximately one month.

(Side note: before going to check out this club for the first time, I called up and asked for directions to get there. The lady was very, very vague and would only tell me about things nearby, with no specifics. I turned up, found the place and noted that the location was directly nextdoor to Just Hooters. Oh! Why did you not say you were nextdoor to Just Hooters?! If she had said that, it would've just made my day.)

Obligatory work whinge: I've been letting things get on top of me since I got back. The total misery of being back there on Monday has rolled over into general discontent for the rest of this week, but with Friday rapidly approaching I think I am just about back to normal. This week's reason why I consider this job to be the hardest of my life:

Having to tell a casual staff member that there's no hours available for her, even though she is in desperate need of the money to pay for her husbands medical bills. Her husband who has leukaemia.

Yeah. You want to be me.

2008-11-09T12:25:00.003+10:00

Every time I come home from a beachy-type holiday, I look like this. Within five minutes of walking in the door I realise that my toe ring is giving me a callus, my anklet is catching on my fat pants, and my hair which was formerly windswept by the salty air is now manky from the Brisbane smog, and life goes back to normal.

Well, not fully back to normal. I still have to make the return to work tomorrow and it will be highly sucky, I am sure.

Thirty second wrap up!

Good flights, ocean rafting, snorkelling, fish and coral, beautiful beaches, catamarans and a ferry, Hamilton, Daydream and Long Islands, eating, eating and more eating, massage from hell, cocktails, cocktails and more cocktails, lots of sunshine, my dirty tan, backpackers galore, seedy nightclubs, spending an insane amount of money, shitty sleepless nights, manhandled underpants, home, oh my!

And just to elaborate on a few things there:

Eating: My stomach seems to have stretched and I am now eating bigger meals than Beardie. How this works, I do not know.

Dirty Tan: So all of this glorious sunshine, and I was ever so careful with sunscreen so that I didn't come home a lobster. I am slightly tanned now (for perhaps the first time since high school) but it turns out that I don't turn lovely and golden - I turn dirty and patchy. So I look like I spent my holiday in a gutter instead of in the sunshine.

Manhandled Underpants: I apparently left a pair of my undies up in the room somewhere when checking out, and when we returned to collect our bags for our flight home, I discovered that the cleaner had collected them and put them in my handbag for me. Used underpants surprise!

Massage: What was supposed to be the most relaxing part of the trip was actually pretty awful. I knew that my back was in a pretty bad state, from past massage experience, but half an hour of having somebody jab her fingers into the knots in my back had me on the verge of tears. I survived, and on the way out the masseuse grabbed me and said "excuse me, but WHAT have you been doing?!"

I replied with something like "um, office work?" and she proceeded to tell me that my back was congested, that I need to drink more water or else I'll get osteoporosis (apparently my back was sucking up the oils like a sponge, but surely the booze from the night before is partially to blame?), that I need to exercise and stretch, BIG TIME, and that I am pretty much a gigantic, knotty freak.

As you can imagine, I was slightly freaked out, so I've been throwing back water like I'm an addict and I'm joining a health club tomorrow. I knew the fitness bug was coming anyway but it's definitely a kick start when you're told that your body is basically shit.

There's more than this but I am spent, and this post is too long already. Back to reality tomorrow. Sigh.

2008-11-01T08:49:00.002+10:00

What a crazy Friday. Trying to attend five meetings (one of which was the dreaded, face-reddening Team Meeting), partake in a team lunch (in which I ate the team food, but did it at my desk, while I continued working), and then hand over my entire job to somebody else, and then catch up on the e-mails I haven't had a chance to look at all day is my definition of a crazy Friday. I went home late. It blew.

And now, welcome to my crazy weekend. Before we leave for the airport tomorrow at 11-ish, we need to:

completely clean the house from head to toe, because there is a house inspection while we are away, and we currently live in a sty
prepare the spare room for the friend who is house-sitting while we're away
clean up the files on my PC so that the friend who is house-sitting doesn't stumble upon a) blog stuff, b) porn
go to the going away party of a friend who is moving to another country
attend an appointment in which hair will be violently ripped out of my body
eat regular meals to prevent starvation
PACK

So, I guess I better get cracking.

Sunday afternoon through to Saturday morning is CHILL TIME. I'll see you after that, tanned and carefree.

Well. Hopefully.

2008-10-27T20:15:00.004+10:00

So life is stressful and a bit shitty at the moment. Presenting the week that was:

There is bad shit going down with my best mate at work. She is very emotional and stressed about some personal issues, and me never knowing what to say means that I suck when it comes to being a positive, reassuring friend. Throw in some work stress, and this makes for a bad, bad combo. I think that I am learning that buying people donuts when they need cheering up isn't the fix to all of the world's problems. Even if they are topped with Lindt chocolate.
I once again cocked up at work, and the Important People once again made phone calls about me. Turns out that I am looking more incompetent by the second, despite my best efforts. As well as my Pretty Hair technique, I have now also adopted the Colourful Underpants technique. Because while I may continually screw shit up, at least I have pretty hair and colourful underpants. I will report on their success/failure shortly.
I am still desperately trying to reassure myself that I am not wasting my twenties by booking in some piano lessons. Whilst trying to act young and hip in my conversation with the receptionist lady at the music school, I was asked when I wanted to book my daughter in for her first lesson. Apparently, I sound mum-ish. Turns out she had confused me with the person she had spoken to previously, BUT STILL. They are pretty much booked solid for the next couple of weeks, except for a few slots which clash with The Holiday, so I guess I will follow it up when I get back.
That's right, from MY HOLIDAY. Moving onto the things that are good, I am actually starting to get excited about having a whole week off work, where I can be young and carefree and dress like a hippie. Most of the week is fully booked with day trips and boat trips and trips to the cocktail bar, but just chilling and getting a massage is sounding like heaven. Good luck to whoever has to get the knots out my back, because it feels like a boy scout has earned a few badges back there.
Forever the last one on the bandwagon, I have recently discovered Dexter, and it turns out that serial killers float my boat. Who knew?

Four days to go!

2008-10-20T20:30:00.002+10:00

I have no blog mojo at the moment.

Work is bleurgh. I screwed something up and Important People made phone calls about it, and it made me feel a bit rubbish. I combat this by looking sheepish, and making my hair pretty, so that even though I may have cocked shit up royally, at least I have pretty hair.
I think I am going through a mid-twenties crisis at the moment. Re-evaluating friendships and wondering why I never pursue my interests. All that shit. I have also been having little confidence crises where I feel completely out of my depth, and wonder what I am doing in this meeting, and what is everyone talking about? Maybe this is part of growing up. Or signs that I really am losing my mind.
I think I am going to get piano lessons and maybe start a band. See mid-twenties crisis comment above.
I went to drinks with work people on Friday night, and I really have to stop going. I can't be doing this team leader biz, and then spilling beer on my team members after hours. Or doing my Cat Deeley impersonation. Or any of the many embarrassing things that I tend to do when the alcohol has hit me.
This Friday I am attending farewell drinks (not work people, so it's ok) for the third person this month. So, you know, if everyone could please stop leaving me now, that would be tops.

Etc.

2008-10-13T18:15:00.003+10:00

I had lunch with my mum today. In today's episode of The Sordid Lives of the Mountain Dwellers!!!1!!:

"So, the people who live across the road are always partying. Until 3am, every night. Every night! And we knew they were on drugs, because your brother went over there one day and they were just lying on the table. Can you believe they were so bold as to leave drugs all over the table? But then the other night there was a massive police raid, and ALL of the police were there, and since then it's been quiet."

My mum handed me a book called Your Health at Risk, with the sub-heading 'What doctors and the government aren't telling you.'

"Margarine!!!@!1 You wouldn't believe what's in margarine."

In the next episode: hear about the nextdoor neighbour's lover, who has gone back to her husband! And all about the snake that ate the chickens!

I had decided today that I was not going to spend much cash, having spent far too much on Friday. However, I have been consistently annoyed with my mobile phone lately (with the messages from beyond, etc.) and it was the last straw when my mum had been frantically calling me, and none of the calls had come through.

So I went to a mobile phone store. A salesman walked over and asked if he could help with anything.

I explained my situation. I specifically said the words: I need a new phone. I listed all of my requirements and he was able to give several suggestions. I then told him about my current contract situation and we went through exactly what would need to happen for me to switch to a new phone, and a new plan.

So, my thinking is that I am The Sure Thing in sales terms, right? I have basically walked into this shop with a sign on my forehead saying I AM YOUR NEXT COMMISSION.

"This phone is looking pretty good," I say.

"Quite frankly, that phone is crap," he replies.

"Oh," I say, wondering where the great school of how NOT to sell things is located.

"Yeah, how about I leave you this brochure, and you can come back when you've decided." And with that, he turned around and started chatting with the other salesperson, about general crap.

Are you kidding me? How many signals can I give that I want to buy something? And this is rare for me, because I normally give off growly 'do I LOOK like I want your help?' sort of signals. So now I DON'T have a new phone, when I really, really wanted one, and this guy has missed out on the funding for his next tub of hair gel.

I guess it must be me.

2008-10-10T16:26:00.009+10:00

My phone delivers messages from the other world. It will beep, and it will say that I have a new voicemail message, when I am 100% sure that my phone has not actually rung. These random voicemail messages are generally wrong numbers. But not just any wrong numbers. I once listened to five minutes of a young girl crying and wailing "mummmmmmmyyyyyyyyyyyy". And this morning, a child left a message, once again crying, and saying "hello? Hello? HELLO??!?!?"

FREAKING ME THE HELL OUT.

These are obviously messages from beyond the grave. Or if someone is playing a cruel prank, how are they putting these voicemail messages on my phone without it actually ringing? OH MAN.

After this lovely start to my Day Off, I went to the doctor, to get a new prescription for the No Babies Pill. I hate paying $50 to see a doctor, only to walk out with a slip of paper, but despite my best efforts I just couldn't think of any far-fetched afflictions to give myself. So the doctor prints out the piece of paper, and I say:

"Oh, don't suppose I could have a prescription for six months instead of three?"

Before I go on, this was the first time I had seen this doctor, as my normal one (who has seen my private parts) was not available.

Doctor: No, it only comes in one or three months.
Me: Oh. No worries.
Doctor: I think it is probably because a girl DIED from being on the pill not too long ago. So it is forcing you to see your doctor on a more regular basis.
Me: [gobsmacked]
Dr. Death: The pill gives you problems with blood clots, you see.
Me: Um.
Dr. Evil: OH, hehehe, hope I haven't worried you now. Hehehe.

THANKS.

I then went for my follow-up dentist appointment and received the Best. News. Ever! I don't have to have my wisdom teeth out, at least not for a bloody long time. They took an x-ray of my head and I discovered that I don't have three wisdom teeth, I have four, and the last one is hidden up in my jaw somewhere. Yes! I am a freak! But all is well, so I dished out more cash and then danced a dance of JOY!

So that was my day complete, but then whilst on my dental hygiene buzz I decided to go to the chemist and buy some mouthwash. I left the shopping centre three hours later, with a haircut, dresses, various hair products, jelly beans, underwear, a magazine and shoes. Oh, and mouthwash. And where I am EVER going to wear red, five-inch snakeskin stilettos, I DON'T KNOW. That's right, I have shoes that were made out of a snake.

And now, I am way poor.

2008-10-07T19:04:00.003+10:00

In yet further proof that I am shit at being a girl, I had a few minutes to kill before going out for drinks the other night and decided to curl my eyelashes, because that's what girls do, apparently. While the contraption was clamped over my eye-hairs, I had a massive eye spasm, uncontrollably yanked my head and then looked at the eyelash curler, to discover I had RIPPED OUT a huge chunk of my eyelashes. Yes, I have a full-on bald spot now. An eyelash bald spot. WHAT.

I am completely obsessed with gingernut biscuits. They are heavenly, and I could happily marry one right now.
Lately, I am feeling all musical. I go through phases in my life, for example, I can tell that I am just about to go through a fitness phase, where I decide I am porky and start running every day, only to give it up within a few weeks. This is how I work. And now I am hitting the music phase, where I start playing the guitar every day and wailing like a feral cat and dreaming of discovering this incredible talent which MUST be lurking in there somewhere. So, right now my fingers hurt. From the guitar playing. But I'm sure I'll slack off soon.
It's only three and a half weeks before we take our mini-holiday which was supposed to be Thailand but isn't! I have even dug out a swimsuit which I bought a long time ago, back when I had convinced myself that I had a chance of becoming one of those carefree beach girls (and obviously forgetting that I can cause blindness with my pasty white skin). Yet I am a little scared of leaving work and having to come back to whatever has changed over a five day absence. Which is bloody sad, really.
Beardie blogs now. This is his therapy.
Beardie also surprised me with Cirque du Soleil tickets for December, whoo! And we are even going VIP, where they offer a "coat check service" and "private restrooms". Instead of a communal pissing trough, or something. I asked what would happen if I used the coat check service to hand in a hoodie smelling like cheezels, and apparently that wouldn't go down well. I am unsure if I am VIP material. But I will get to see contortionists and various other freaks all up close and personal, ooh!

And that's me done.

2008-10-04T06:50:00.001+10:00

Work makes me want to take up smoking. Just so I can go downstairs and have 15 minute bitch sessions. In fact, I think I am going to start going for the bitch sessions, cigarettes or not.

Performance managing people stresses me the hell out. Because I am all "hey, if I want to get the job done, I need to make this change, EASY!" and they are all "yeah I know I need to change, but I'm a DICK who WON'T so THERE." And because I can't relate to this attitude, I just want them to go away, and preferably die.

This is how I find myself at 6:30 on a Saturday morning, typing up coaching notes in preparation for Monday.

In that bullshitty "Employment Objective" part of my resume, I always used to say that I wanted a challenging job, but GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. I have been cursed.

And this comes with extra bitterness, as I found out yesterday that if I had not been given this job, I would have been offered another job in a more technical (i.e. antisocial) area, where I got to play with servers and no longer talk to customers and possibly blog/watch Youtube ALL DAY. However, this would have been at a bit of a paycut, BUT STILL.

Also! In the ongoing shitness of this past week, I have been massively ill. But apparently not sensible enough to stay home from work. It was the kind of ill where I couldn't actually hold down any food, and walking around in the office when I am in desperate need of spewing, and also coughing/spluttering/etc., with a wide-eyed, twitchy buzz from the pseudoephedrine, obviously makes me the hottest girl in all the land.

To go back to That Thing from the last post, with That Guy at the drinks, all is well as the It Never Happened approach has been taken. This is fortunate, as I suspect that I would have scrote-punched anyone who came anywhere near me this week.

But now it is the weekend, so I can focus on chilling out, and possibly letting it all pass in a hazy, snotty blur.

HOORAH!

2008-09-28T16:20:00.002+10:00

Friday.

I went to the dentist, and all seems to be fairly ok in the mouth region. My wisdom teeth now cause me no trouble/pain at all, which I took to mean that I would never have to have them removed, but ALAS! I have to go back to the dentist in a couple of weeks to discuss having them removed, because apparently they're all squished in there and will cause decay on the other teeth. Or something.

Hooray for extractions. Me and my stupid teeth which don't fit.

Went home and arsed about. Watched random crap on Youtube, and received a couple of Congrats-type texts from work people, which I assume means that they made an announcement about the job, and sent around an e-mail, or something. I then went into the city to meet up with these work people, for the farewell drinks.

All went well, everyone drank and made merry, etc. It was all terribly fun, but how things are going to be on Monday when I have to face the co-worker who made a serious pass at me, I DON'T KNOW. And it wasn't even a drunken "maybe she'll shag me" effort, it was a very full on, look deep into my eyes and let me tell you how much you mean to me type of effort.

Flattering as I am hardly ever hit on hardly hardly ever never, but WOAH.

Also, the drunkest of the bunch decided to use me to stabilise his poor attempt at walking, fell over as he was trying to cross the dance floor and took me down with him, in front of a few hundred people. And everyone thought that I was the pisshead when for once in my life, I wasn't.

And Saturday.

Lazy, lazy day. We went out for dinner/drinks but it turns out that I am not 19, and am completely unable to drink on two consecutive nights. Fortunately I didn't puke or fall asleep in the corner, but a very poor effort nonetheless.

Sunday. Lovely Sunday. Much sitting out the back and enjoying warmth. I may as well enjoy it now before it becomes Queensland Extreme and starts to piss me off.

And back to work on Monday. Sigh. And seeing what comes of the stuff that happened on Friday night. Not the falling over. The other thing. I am sort of hoping for the Let's Pretend It Never Happened approach, for everyone's sake.

Hmm.

2008-09-26T08:00:00.001+10:00

So. Turns out I got the job. And now I earn lots o' cash. For doing something which I'm kinda scared of doing. I have really mixed feelings about it, because on the one hand I feel like I've been picked because of the major candidate shortage (yes, I'm sort of a last resort. Awesome!), and that it isn't where I want my career to go, and then on the other hand I am blinded by the cash.

I have never applied for a promotion when I wasn't sure if I actually wanted it, until now. I will just see what happens. Time will tell, I guess.

I think I have the potential to do well. But I just need to grow some balls.

Today is my DAY OFF! And I am going to the dentist for a lovely check-up. Where my mouth will be prodded with hooks and scraped with spiky things and then I will be asked to pay for it. Crazy world, etc.

I am also going to farewell drinks for a co-worker, which means I will be mingling with work people, on a day where I could have potentially steered clear of them altogether. But they are an alright bunch, etc.

At some point I should probably clear up the clothes which are scattered everywhere. Worn clothes which have been thrown on the floor, and clean clothes which are sitting around in various clothes baskets, waiting to be put away. We are messy indeed.

I bet that your days off aren't as exciting as mine.

2008-09-24T21:40:00.004+10:00

Bullet points, etc.

So I was supposed to find out about the job, but didn't, and have now been told that I probably won't find out until early next week. So. Whatever. Pffffft.
I apparently annoyed several people on the bus today when I turned my iPod up to a Very Loud volume. I did it because of the impossibly pretty but highly annoying group of girls who sat next to me and started chatting about crap. After a day at work, I don't want to overhear crap. So I cranked up Air, which should have really had a soothing effect on everyone, but instead brought me nasty looks and caused whispered conversations amongst the boho chic girls. Bah!
We watched Heroes last night, and I don't normally blog TV, but OH MY! So very much happened! And I just had to get that out of my system.
While I am doing this Team Leader gig, I am starting work a bit later than I was previously. This means that I am now getting a different bus, at a different time. And this means that I no longer get to see the following passengers:
- Mr. Never Sit Down. The man who will get onto an almost completely empty bus, but still stand in the aisle. This is the cause of much pondering on my part. Is he too much of a gentleman? Is he just annoying?
- Possible crackwhore. The woman who is dressed impeccably, has very perfect hair, but looks like she is on crack. Yes, I suppose it is possible that she's just unwell in some way, and I will feel very bad if that turns out to be true, but at the moment I prefer to go with the crackwhore theory.
On my new bus I have:
- The unloving couple. Yes, cruel of me to pass judgment, but I have seen them walking to the bus stop on opposite sides of the road. When they get to the bus stop, they don't speak a word, and then he barges onto the bus in front of her. So they get this name, mmkay.
- The sickening couple. On the opposite side of the couple radar is the couple who spend the entire bus trip nuzzled up together, looking into eachothers eyes lovingly, kissing repeatedly, giggling and making me BARF.

And it's just not quite the same.
Meanwhile, I have had a weak wrist for quite a while, and was never sure why, but I have since discovered that I have some kind of freaky ganglion thing on there, and I feel like a bit of a mutant. I am going to the doctor on Saturday and I fully expect him to make me normal again. I can only conclude that it has come about as the result of too much Computering. That'll teach me.

Lovely.

2008-09-20T16:57:00.003+10:00

So yesterday, I was massively pissed off. At everything and everyone.

It started out with my interview. And God knows how that went. For once in my life spent sitting quietly and not saying much at all, I didn't have enough time to say everything I wanted to say. I think that I made it obvious that I know where I work pretty bloody well, but if I did it from the right perspective, and used enough wankwords, I don't know.

I won't have to wait long, as they have already decided and will be announcing their decision on Monday or Tuesday.

The middle part of the day was hugely rushed for a Friday, and our Superfun Awesome Pizza Lunch turned into a massive hassle, and in the end I just put it all on my credit card and let everyone pay me whatever they wanted, because it was too big a pain in the arse.

And then came the team meeting, and I wanted to punch everyone in the face. As usual, I turned bright red (verging on purple) because talking to groups Isn't My Thing, and I understand that on a Friday afternoon everyone wants to just chill and starts slacking off, but if One. More. Person had started quietly chatting with the person next to them while I was talking, I would've bust some heads.

So, right, people suck, but I recognise that if I am going to be running meetings (three a fortnight, SPEW), I need to a) be more forgiving, b) not want to kill everyone quite so much c) stop turning purple every time I have to address a group.

This is assuming I get the job, I guess. But even if I don't, I'll be relieving in this job for a little while longer. And they're good skills to try and develop. I guess. Even if it is agonising.

The rest of the night was good, as Beardie met me at Southbank and we wandered around the huge art sale at the Convention Centre (like one of those discount sales where the guy on the ad says "bras, Bras, BRAAAAAASSS!!!" but they're dodgy paintings instead of bras), then stumbled upon the poshest school formal (apparently Brisbane Grammar is the new 90210, who knew?) and stood there watching them get out of limos and stretch hummers (yes, really) until I insisted we leave in fear of being politely escorted from the premises. We had dinner out and went home, and after a couple of hours I went to sleep, still thinking about work.

And I woke up thinking about work. I can only conclude that I thought about work all night, while I was asleep.

And I've been thinking about work for most of today. And it's Saturday.

This has turned into a work blog. I would like to apologise to myself for this.

Sorry, me.

2008-09-18T21:47:00.002+10:00

I bought a pretty flowy dress and I am unsure if I will ever wear it. But it was 30% off! And you can't argue with that logic.

*

I had a meeting with the most childish man on earth today. It was supposed to be me, my manager, and twatface, but my manager cancelled at the last minute. Man, I was pissed. An hour stuck in a room with a total git, without somebody else to fill the gaps in the conversation where I was silently seething with fury? That is not cool.

So I thought about it, and took a different tack, and decided to try and be the non-existent magnanimous and peaceable version of myself. I politely laughed at crap jokes and steered the conversation away from "I hate you" and "well I hate you more". And I think he wants to marry me now. So GO ME and my developing people skills, but eww.

Work is quiet this week, which is tops, but crap, all at the same time. Tops in that I'm not tearing my hair out or grinding my teeth down to stumps, and crap in that I keep checking my e-mail, and sticking my nose into other peoples work, and walking around reading the Workplace Health and Safety signs.

Also on the work front, SURPRISE, the head honcho types are all desperate to finalise all of the vacant positions, so SURPRISE, I was told today that I have an interview tomorrow, at 8:15am. SURPRISE. And the worst thing of all is that I work closely with everyone on the panel, so I can't fluff any of my answers. And I feel embarrassed about saying that I can give "valuable insight into the call centre industry" on my resume, which is total and utter fluff.

This blog post actually takes place over two days. Tricksy!

Time to try and sleep for a few hours before the stress kicks in.

2008-09-14T20:55:00.010+10:00

It is a good time for Stuff That I Like:

Caution: NERD ALERT. Despite being a geek, I normally have a touch of the girliness about me. Until Gears of War II comes out, that is. As of November, I will be locked in the house, marvelling at the wonderful invention of a gun with a chainsaw attached, as I cackle maniacally and slaughter THE LOCUST HORDE.

At the end of this month, Ben Folds new album will be out, which is ACE. As everyone should know, Ben Folds is my husband. It looks like it will be right up my alley, hoorah!

The new season of Heroes is starting in two weeks. I get to watch it and vicariously pretend that I have super powers! Squeal!

The second season of Secret Diary of a Call Girl (the TV series based on Belle de Jour) has started, which is also very squeal-worthy. I get to watch it and vicariously pretend that I am a glamorous prostitute, without any of the moral implications. Yay!

And The Other Stuff:

I mentioned in passing that I would soon have to put in a formal application for the job that I'm doing at the moment. Lo and behold, surprise-fricking-surprise, it was sprung on me late last week for submission by 9am tomorrow morning. Completely redoing your resume, when you haven't bothered to keep it up to date since you applied for a totally different position a year ago, is a freaking mammoth task. Which is why I have spent a fair chunk of today doing it. But at least this is the easy part. If I score an interview, then I can properly start shitting myself.

I met up with the friend on Friday night. It was a work drinks night, and I had successfully managed to knock back the offers of Super Cheap booze numerous times. We went to the quietest pub we could find and managed to have a bit of a chat, before EVERYONE from my work miraculously turned up at the pub. Way to spoil things, guys! Turns out that someone had thrown a bottle off the roof, or something crazy, and everyone had been kicked out. And then decided to make their way to the exact pub where we happened to be, and formed a gigantic circle right next to us. So methinks that maybe another meetup is in order.

Instead of the heart-to-heart it was supposed to be, I: ended up in an emo bar (an experience that I would like to never repeat, thanks), danced like a stripper for my work friends in a taxi, couldn't get over the fact that a man had Jackson for a first name instead of surname, and then proceeded to sing "Sorry Miss Jackson, I am for reee-eaaal!" at him (along with five others) until he moved away in annoyance.

I am very poor! We went to get our groceries today and decided to check out some outdoor furniture. And then bought some. A five-piece setting and a sunlounge, plus a gigantic umbrella. And then we bought the groceries, came home, and booked our break for November to the Whitsundays. Only flights and accommodation at the moment, but yes, I am as poor as poor gets. Beardie is poorer, as on top of all of this he also bought the Guitar Hero pack, with two guitars.

And that, I think, is about it.

2008-09-06T08:58:00.007+10:00

Following on from my previous book whinge, I finished a book this morning that was actually Not Too Bad. Eve Green by Susan Fletcher, which I mainly picked for the Welsh connection, and also because I am still susceptible to the term "modern classic", even though it is bandied around so much that it seems to have become the herpes of literature.

1 in 8 books is a Modern Classic. Have yours checked today.

So not all that bad, though it was a bit wishy-washy, and it was only in the last tenth of the book that anything actually happened. Just lots of hints of things happening throughout.

And now I get to pick which book I will read next, which is of course the best fun a girl can have.

Work is stressing me out, and why I am currently leading a team of 17 when I much prefer to sit in a corner by myself is completely beyond me. I don't know how to support and motivate people, I just generally want them to go away. And this attitude does not a good team leader make. Over the next month or two I will have the opportunity to apply for this job on a permanent basis, instead of The Acting which is currently going on at the moment. And the lovely cash is too much to pass up, so I will go for it, regardless. Yet I am sort of hoping that they find somebody more suitable than me, so that I can stop worrying that people refer to me as The Crap Team Leader. That whole fat pants desk job I mentioned before would be sweet right about now.

And I've totally broken the work rule, again. Pffffffft.

I am onto Book Two in the piano playing saga! I have graduated from The Entertainer and Amazing Grace onto other things! When Beardie's parents were visiting, I actually played for an audience for the first time, so therefore completely shat myself and made a bazillion mistakes, as expected. Wow!

As Beardie is still asleep, and I'm hungry, the odds of me eating jelly beans for breakfast have increased dramatically.

2008-09-03T21:15:00.006+10:00

I said that I wouldn't blog work, but I'm at the end of my flippin' tether*.

I will blog it, but I will be all vague and annoying.

I had a meeting with the most infuriating man on earth today. He had Spoilt Little Boy syndrome. Obviously used to getting his own way and being cleverer than everyone for his entire life, this man wasted 1 hour and 30 minutes of my time by arguing every point I made, drifting off on a tangent every five minutes, and annoying the shit out of me.

Can I also say right here that he had long girl nails and soft dainty hands like a woman.

Some people who work in IT are quirky and funny, and some are absolute bastards.

Quirky and funny:

Absolute BASTARD:

No, I didn't know that Hitler worked in IT either, until today.

If I could please get a job where I get to wear fat pants, drink hot chocolate, live like a hermit and not have to talk to twats, that would be tops. Please. Pretty please.

*Season Two is out on DVD, whoo!

2008-08-31T18:38:00.003+10:00

Busy!

Thailand is postponed until February, at the earliest. And not because of any whacky anti-government demonstrations, but because Beardie tried to put in his leave and was told that it was a No Go. Devo! So we are having a mini-break, most likely to The Whitsundays, and Thailand shall come later. Which is better than it not happening at all, but still. Sniff.
In a couple of weeks I am meeting up with the friend I mentioned in this post, to, you know. Catch up, and talk. And stuff. Thoughts = don't know. We will just see what happens. Mmkay.
This weekend, Beardie's parents have been visiting, and we introduced them to the yum cha experience. We took them to Sunnybank yum cha, which is basically total mayhem. You arrive, take a ticket, and don't expect a table for another 45 minutes, at least. We thought our number was called ("TWO!") and we followed the lady to a table. The manager-type person hurried over and said "oh no, not TWO, I called SHOO. A reservation for the big fat lady and her friends." Yes, that's right, the head honcho of yum cha referred to a patron as "the big fat lady." Now those are some fantastic customer service skills which I am going to adopt at work immediately.

Also during this visit:
- Beardie's dad went through the files on both PC's in the house searching for movies/various other media that he could copy over to his hard drive and take back to Tasmania. This was all good until he stumbled upon a substantial amount of porn. Oops!
- Beardie's mum greeted me, and referred to me by his ex's name. Oops again! I didn't hear it at the time, but when Beardie told me later I said "I don't mind that your mum did it... now if YOU did it, on the other hand..." and then I dished out a handful of scrotum-damaging threats.
I am completely bored of reading shitty books. Why are so many books so very crappy? What happened to the books that you can't put down? I don't know where they are. I picked up a pamphlet from Borders called "50 books that you can't put down" (or something similar) but I suspect it is full of lies. Lies and deceit! If throwing them out a window does not count as putting them down, then yes, 100% correct.

Etc.

2008-08-22T15:24:00.001+10:00

It's when I visit my mum that I realise where all of my neuroses and exceedingly anal behavioural traits have come from. The main example to point out here is that I arranged to meet my mother at 12, but know that she's always early (plus I want to buy a couple of things) so I get there at 10:20, and at 10:30 find I've missed a phone call from my mum, her voice slightly frantic because she hates talking on my voicemail, saying "are you here yet??"

So I go and meet my mother for our 12 o'clock lunch together, at 10:30.

Explain this to me.

Every time I meet up with mummy and bro I realise how very far removed I've become from my old, country girl self. Living on top of a mountain did nothing to aid the growth of my social skills, and as much of a misfit as I feel these days, I can't help but feel like the most cosmopolitan city-dweller on earth when we visit together.

Though I did catch up on the gossip of who's cutting down their trees, and the pagan rituals the nextdoor neighbour performs, and the feral cats that fight at night, and the backstabbing children of another neighbour who are trying to put him into a nursing home so that they can take his $1.5 million enormous property, and...

They should turn it into a soap opera. The Lives of the Mountain Dwellers. The SORDID Lives of the Mountain Dwellers. Or something equally exciting.

It's a shame though, because I think that living up there gives my mum some funny ideas. She's too far removed from everything, and watches too many reruns of The Gilmore Girls and Seachange. And she is tiny, and prim and proper, yet in the middle of lunch she blurted "those Gilmore Girls, what a pair of whorebags!" and made me choke on my sushi.

Gosh.

Woah! Check out how serious this post is!

P.S. I bought new jeans and peanut butter M&M's.

2008-08-21T11:58:00.001+10:00

So, on this wondrous day of sitting on my arse, I am listening to music and dipping McVities into my many cups of tea.

In a minute, I am going to finish my book, and pick which one I am going to read next.

VERY EXCITING!

(Totally not kidding)

I was a little worried that I was finally getting the awful flu that everyone else seems to have, when I woke up all headachey and snotty, but this seems to have disappeared following the consumption of much tea.

GO TEA!

You know, I love tea. Every single morning, I drink my tea, and then say in an Irish accent "There's nothing loik a noice cup o' tea." I am unsure why I do this in an Irish accent. It's my thing.

In other news: ha! This post is massively boring and shit!

So, uh, if you could all just blog right now and give me something else to do, that would be sweet.

Mmkaythxbye.

2008-08-18T18:09:00.001+10:00

Body odour.

It's a funny thing really.

I was quite excited that my bus was a lovely, shiny, air-conditioned bus, rather than one of the crusty old ones. However, air-conditioned means sealed windows which can't be opened in any way at all, and I completely despised my bus when the stinkiest man on earth sat next to me.

Now, if I have been to the gym (pfffft) or running around, then I will be conscious of the fact that I probably don't smell like roses. I'll put on deoderant, or steer clear of close contact with total strangers.

But not everyone follows my logic.

So this is how I find myself gagging on the bus ride home this afternoon.

Fun times.

For a Monday, today wasn't too bad. I actually left feeling quite cheery, instead of dejected and hating the world. Yay me! This may be in some way due to scoring both Thursday AND Friday off work this week. Two glorious days of sitting around, a mum visit, and more sitting around. Followed by the weekend! SCORE.

Now if this could happen to me every Monday, then that it would make it a pretty awesome day of the week.

2008-08-12T10:07:00.003+10:00

Yesterday, we went to the Currumbin Wildlife Sanctuary.

An eagle hit Beardie in the head with its wing
A rainbow lorikeet hit Beardie in the head with its squirty poo
I got scratches all over my wrist from little scratchy bird claws
We both got various animal poo all over shoes
I touched a kangaroo, it twitched violently, and I almost crapped myself thinking that it was going to beat the crap out of me
We both said "ewwwwwwww" loudly after looking at the gigantic crocodile's disgusting foot growths
We commented on the incredible reek of the koalas, and vowed to never touch one, never ever never

I meant to take the video camera with me and make the Best Home Video Ever, but discovered that the battery was flat right as we were leaving. Devo! But we have decided that the next school group-type adventure will be to Underwater World, and I won't be making the same mistake.

I have both today and tomorrow off work because at the moment I am trying to destress, or something like it. In actual fact, I have no idea what to do with myself. I think I am going to have my nails turned into something respectable, before I start taking out peoples eyes with my massive talons, and I will quite possibly also go and waste my cash on shiny things and clothes. Maybe some shiny clothes. I also suspect I will sit around and watch the DVD's I've been buying but not watching, and then play online games like a super geeky nerd geek. Oh, and of course some piano playing, in the desperate hope that I will magically turn into Ben Folds.

And at the end of it, I better be fricking stress-free, or else I'll be pissed. And stressed.

2008-08-05T19:20:00.001+10:00

Tomorrow I'm attending an afternoon workshop as a representative of the agency I work for. I could possibly be required to "network". This will be quite difficult due to the following:

I'm a social retard
There will be no beer available
My attempts at conversation result in convulsive giggles
Talking about work is about as much fun as stabbing my tender bits with a spork
Bleurghhhhh
Etc.

Alas, I am going nonetheless, and I'm going to try and ditch my standard hobo outfit and dress like a Professional, Young Woman. Or something. And if I can score a couple of business cards then I'll be able to go back to work and flash them around like I've been successful at this whole networking thing, even though I'll have gathered them by stealing them from back pockets and handbags.

Wish me luck!

Actually, don't bother.

2008-08-02T23:57:00.006+10:00

Currently reading:

The Virgin Suicides. Because I went all Sofia Coppola Fan Girl over the movie. Kooky shit that doesn't make much sense = my bag.

The book is going ok. It is quite a short book. Yes, this is the best review I can give.

Just watched:

Sex, Lies, and Videotape. Oh yes! Nobody can deny the appeal of James Spader's feathery hair and weird, confronting behaviour.

Spader is just so creepy, yet so appealing. How does he pull off this combo?

OH. YES.

Eating:

Nothing spectacular, to be honest. The same girl who gave me the box of maltesers last time had another box waiting for me a couple of days ago. I think that the roof of my mouth has actually disintegrated.

Doing:

Diddly, as per usual. Although in work news, my four week stint of acting as my boss is finishing next week, and they have offered it to me again next month, with a chance of it being ongoing. Which means I will be loaded! And stressed. But loaded! I don't think that the bags under my eyes could possibly get any baggier, so hey, what the hell.

2008-07-28T21:32:00.004+10:00

Last night, the power went out. Sometimes this happens if it is really hot, and all of the air conditioners in Queensland have used up all the power, or something. Maybe it happened because it's really cold, and all of the heaters are using up all the power in Queensland.

Either way, I had a forkful of dinner in my gob when it went all dark and Charles Wooley disappeared into the night.

We froze and waited for it to come back on.

It didn't. For two hours.

So a couple of minutes in, we unfroze and considered hunting round for torches. Beardie's first thought was to open the fridge to get some light. Then he realised the flaw in this plan. My first thought was to shovel the rest of my dinner into my mouth, and this I did. Dinner is so much more exciting when each forkful is a mystery.

Things that you can do in the dark:

play guitar, and then realise that it's been months since you've played, that your fingernails are too long, and that you suck
read a book by torchlight
talk about what the neighbours are doing. "Ooh, look, they're running around with torches too!"
hold your torch under your chin so that you've got that whole spooky look going
other stuff (coughCOUGHcough)
walk up and down the street, seeing how far the blackout goes
talk about how there's nothing to do when there's a blackout
try and do various things that are impossible, because there's a blackout

And so on.

The main pro being that I finished my book, and the main con being, well, almost everything else.

But tonight all is well, and I am rapidly consuming the lovely, lovely electricity.

Sigh. At the moment, a blackout's the best I've got.

2008-07-24T17:52:00.003+10:00

Today, I gave myself a home dye job. For the first time since I was 12 and wanted my hair to be purple. And now my hair is brown. Before the dye job, my hair was brown with crappy blonde bits that had half grown out. So today has been a resounding success.

Beardie bought an iPhone. Apparently iPhones are the bees knees. Due to me being 100 years old on the inside, I don't get the appeal. Doesn't the screen get all gross and fingerprinty all the time?

I had the day off today. This is ace.

I felt sick today, and still feel a bit queasy now. This blows.

I had curry for dinner, which made me feel worse. This was stupid.

All of the above happened yesterday, but I forgot to finish/publish the post.

Today, I went to work and did a lot of work and thought about work and worked.

It's all cold, and blustery, and I have stupid shoes that have no waterproofing and they give me squelchy feet. I hung my socks over a bin at work to dry them out. And then I wore the bin socks.

Today, I had to coach my coach. I am pretending to be my boss and had to coach my old team leader. This is ridiculous.

I am home, and my shoes are drying out, and the heater is cranking, and I'm rugged up with a fleecey blanket and a punnet of strawberries. Eating strawberries makes that "wild.... strawberries!" song stick in my head.

Wild..........

Strawberries!

Bye.

2008-07-19T23:00:00.003+10:00

Here's how NOT to impress a total stranger:

be so incredibly drunk that you aren't aware of what you're doing
upon meeting them, take your tie off and wrap it around and around their head
spill beer all over them
almost break their friend's finger
harrass everyone who is female
slam your fists on the table repeatedly so that everyone's drinks fall over

And more! Now I know what you're thinking, and no, it's wasn't me. It was some random friend of a friend who totally ruined my night. What a monumental twat!

Aside from this, there was lovely, lovely trivia. And I never thought of myself as a StupidHead, but apparently when it comes to trivia, I am. I'm not sure exactly where we stood by the end of the night, but it was very far from first.

Having said that, I am seriously thinking about banning myself from alcohol altogether, because waking up with a hangover like death after Three And A Half Drinks is freaking ridiculous. It's obvious that I have a shitty girly body which can't handle anything at all, and I think that I need to accept this and move on. And I will start drinking pink lemonade and accept my role as the Designated Driver. This is my destiny.

Late. Rambling. Goodnight.

2008-07-16T19:29:00.003+10:00

The lovely thing about acting as your boss is the masses of cash.

The shitful thing is having to tell your friends what to do. And having to tell your friend that the two-week relieving position they were promised has been given to someone else. And having to dob on everyone. Yes, I'm a dobber. It is shitful.

But another three weeks and I am done, and richer, and can hopefully salvage the friendships.

Aside from this, la de da de daa.

Aside from that, I have had the theme song from The Nanny in my head all day.

"She was out on her fannyyyyyyyyyy!"

And now I am going to watch SYTYCD, because the first couple of episodes always show the deluded people who think they can dance, but actually fall over and make twits of themselves. TV GOLD.

2008-07-14T18:43:00.004+10:00

Once upon a time, Beardie and I went to the Great Land of Ikea. We went in to buy some cutlery, and walked out with some pillows, some glasses, various other random crap, a $2 breakfast in our bellies, and a stuffed rat and beaver.

We named the stuffed rat "Ratto" and the stuffed beaver "Beavo", because we are full of glorious imagination.

Some time passed, and it became evident that Beardie had a problem with Beavo. Their encounters would normally involve Beavo being punched in his soft plush beaver face, hurled across the room or sat/farted on.

I thought that this irrational hatred towards an inanimate object was hi-larious, and started purposely putting Beavo in Beardie's path, wherever he would go. This means that when Beardie would pull down the bed covers at night, Beavo would be there waiting. Every. Single. Night.

At first Beavo would just be thrown or punched, but sometimes I would find him under the back tyre of my car, and sometimes with his head stuck in the blender, and sometimes with his head stuck in the oven, awaiting his demise. It was all fun and games, but then last night Beardie cracked, and now Beavo is no more.

RIP Beavo. You were soft and cuddly and delightful, with truly terrible teeth.

Yes. Eventful weekend, etc.

2008-07-11T19:54:00.001+10:00

So I'm standing there, facing them all, and I feel my face start to burn up. My palms start sweating. Actually, I just start sweating in general, like I'm playing football in a fleecey coat. My voice cracks a little, and I giggle nervously in between sentences.

I'm filling in for my boss, and that means running the meetings.

SHIT.

Option One: imagine them all naked.

Now I don't know about you, but if I was in a room of naked strangers it wouldn't make me feel at ease. It would freak me the hell out. And I would be trying to look anywhere other than their genitalia, but would inevitably accidentally look at somebody's privates, which would result in more stress than running the meeting. Like in real life when you realise that you just casually glanced at someone's crotch, and that person saw you do it.

Option Two: don't make eye contact with anyone.

Just focus on something above their heads, right? And pretend that I'm just talking to nobody. Of course, talking to nobody makes me feel silly, and is also a sign of having The Crazies. So, no.

Option Three: feign illness to get out of it.

No feigning required. Meetings make me feel ill.

Option Four: SUCK IT UP, BITCH.

Oh, alright, inner me. Gosh you're mean.

I'm all out of other options. I will just have to deal.

Though any suggestions to combat the superawfulness are welcome.

Bleurgh. I'm not cut out for this stuff.

2008-07-08T18:22:00.004+10:00

Currently reading:

A Spot of Bother. It's going quite well. And I did like The Curious Incident very much. I read it on the bus while I mutter under my breath at the noisy teenage girls like a crazy old woman.

Just watched:

Stealing Beauty! What the eff! Everyone is all touchy-touchy with Liv Tyler, and everyone says random things which everyone else understands, and there's quite a bit of The Flashing and The Sexing. Jeremy Irons was once again successful in his portrayal of the token creepy man and it all ended very happily. I quite liked it.

Eating:

One of those boxes of Maltesers that they sell for fundraising. It's hugenormous. The roof of my mouth is going numb from sucking the chocolate off, and my throat is aching. Yes, I'm going to keep eating them.

Doing:

Diddly squat. I'm home alone for a bit and I trying to think about what suitably crap things I can do, that I would normally not want to inflict on others. I am thinking about perhaps digging out the crappiest, girliest movie I can find.

Plan!

2008-07-06T09:06:00.002+10:00

All of a sudden, I have turned into a homebody.

Now I'll be the first to admit that I have always been a social retard, but I still used to give it a go, you know? Not so these days. On Friday night, I went out with a group from work to check out this new and super cheap place for drinking fun. And all I could do was look at my watch. This was after I'd had to force myself to go in the first place, which took a hell of a lot of willpower.

Me: Oh, I better get going now...
Them: No! Stay out and get shitfaced! We'll go here and here and do this and this!
Me: Oh. No, I need to get going. Another time!
Them: Why? What are you going to do at home?
Me: Um.

1. watch lame movies
2. watch lame TV shows
3. play with my computer
4. eat lardy food
5. sit around
6. play "On Top of Old Smoky" (oh YES, I have upgraded)

Me: I'm just not really prepared for a big night out tonight. Next time though, for sure!

So I went home at 8pm and did a selection of the above, and it was awesome in its own lame kind of way.

And that's ok, isn't it?

2008-07-02T19:40:00.002+10:00

This weekend, you will most probably find me at this.

Gen Con, the super geeky conference for super geeks!

Should I dress up as:

a) a jedi
b) an asian schoolgirl
c) Buffy
d) Princess Peach
e) Chewbacca
f) a hobo

In truth, it will most probably be option f, through no effort of my own.

Hooray for being dishevelled and nerdy!

2008-06-30T17:54:00.005+10:00

Well hidey ho.

We have a houseguest!

An old friend of Beardie's is staying with us for a couple of weeks while she starts a new job. This means:

no walking around nakey
no belching so loud that our household goods vibrate
no playing with my PC all of the freaking time
no playing "Joy to the World" over and over on the piano (it's practice, ok?)
no spontaneously composing songs about bodily functions
no being Too Weird

And Beardie has had to make some major cutbacks too, including cutting down on the farting and drinking straight out of the bottle. I think it is great preparation for being a Grown Up in The Real World.

(The picture of Batman is because we just watched Batman. But the Michael Keaton Batman. Because you can't beat the Michael Keaton Batman.)

2008-06-27T17:39:00.002+10:00

Following on from Wednesday's depressing post o' misery, signs I am getting old are as follows:

When I get up from my seat after having my legs folded up in one of my usual bizarre positions, my joints hurt.
When I get up (in general), I groan.
I hand out tissues to people when they've got the sniffles. (Though I'm not yet keeping them in my bra or up my sleeve.)
I don't understand today's fashion.
I don't understand kids these days,
I think that the cartoons on TV totally blow in comparison to the ones I used to watch when I was a wee tyke.
I don't like CGI movies (the Pixar stuff, you know) or TV shows. I like the type of animation that people draw. With their hands.
There's nothing like a good cup of tea.

Actually, looking over that list, I realise that I've been this way since I was a teenager, really. Except for the groaning and the rusty joints. Conclusion: I have been 70 years old since I was 17.

I bought a pretty dress today!!!!

That is all.

2008-06-25T20:23:00.002+10:00

Today is melancholy, headachey Wednesday:

Sometimes I think that I spend so much time working that my youth is passing me by, and when I look at my tired eyes every day I can't help but wonder how long it will be until I turn into a haggard, old crone.

2008-06-22T20:49:00.005+10:00

Spending all your time in the house like a hermit is not good for the blog fodder. I contemplated blogging being called a "completist" today, and then figured I couldn't drag it out for more than a couple of sentences. And then I considered blogging about how I had chicken soup for lunch yesterday, but I realised that you would be so fascinated that you would probably combust from the excitement.

So yes, bad for the blog. But excellent for my pockets, as I am hugely loaded with cash after spending absolutely nothing this weekend, except for the compulsory food costs. Normally I would be out and about, buying clothes I won't wear and items I won't use, but sitting on my arse with my hair all bird nesty seems to be working pretty well for me.

Obviously not for the whole social aspect. And it sort of sucks when you're so accustomed to the darkness that the sunlight makes you cower like a vampire.

But other than that, good.

Um. So, hey. How's it going?

How about that chicken soup, hey?

2008-06-20T18:44:00.001+10:00

General business:

Everyone is sick! Work is sick, home is sick, random strangers are sick. There is coughing and spluttering galore, and yet I remain unscathed. How is this possible? That's right, it's not possible, because I'm just not that freaking lucky. So I give it until Saturday morning before I wake up in a pool of my own snot, and will therefore spend my two free days feverish and sniffly, before miraculously recovering on Monday morning, just in time to go back to work.
Work is killing me. There is overtime EVERY NIGHT. I was being generous at first, but now I am just making myself unavailable. "Think of the cash!" they say, and yes, the overtime cash is lovely, but is it really worth the destruction of my soul?
My piano playing is going super well, and by that I mean that I can play Good King Wenceslas and When The Saints Go Marching In. A friend at work is giving me his sheet music for Cornflake Girl, and soon I will be able to play like Tori. Soon! (estimated time: twenty years)
This Saturday, Beardie and I are attending a birthday dinner, As A Couple. Besides last year's Christmas party, where everyone was blotto and I was all burning white rage from some drunken cow spilling wine all over my dress, this will be our first Couple Outing, despite going out for A While. And I can't fall into my 'sit in the corner and guzzle beer' comfort zone, because it is a dinner. A dinner where people sit around and discuss things. How will I cope? Do I have to act like a grown-up? I am afraid.

2008-06-17T20:54:00.003+10:00

Ok, so I have a digital piano now. This is extremely awesome and worthy of many exclamation marks.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I expect the secret talent that I never knew about to kick in, ASAP. Talent, are you listening to me?

I have this because now I am 25, and yesterday I was 24.

I had a cake with candles and a rude picture made of icing. It was lovely. I did pretty much nothing except arse about, play games and eat curry, but most importantly I was not at work.

The end.

2008-06-15T11:55:00.002+10:00

We've just arrived home from Sunday morning grocery shopping. You know that you stayed up too late last night when you try and walk UP the travelator that is going DOWN. We both did it, and then it seriously took us 5 seconds before we went, hey, we're not really getting anywhere here, and why is it so hard to walk up this thing?

Sigh.

And then we played mind games with the stalkers who follow you in their cars so that they can get in your spot. We like to do things like point off to the other side of the car park, so that the car speeds off to make sure that they're close to your spot, only to then get into the car right where we were standing and drive off quickly. There's also the "I can't find where to put my empty trolley" game.

We are mean, cold-hearted people.

My last weekend of 24 is going swimmingly. I bought underpants with butterflies on them. I am going to bake gingerbread, shaped in all sorts of random ways (with possibly something phallic thrown in). I bought one of those drinking bird things and can't, for the life of me, work out how to make the bastard drink his God damn water. Damn you, science. Damn you!

But, uh, yeah.

2008-06-13T18:10:00.004+10:00

Seriously. Worst Friday afternoon ever. Who in their right mind would give me five different (urgent) things to do, all of 20 minutes before I'm due to leave for the day. I had to employ some serious Palming Off skills. And I was so busy running around palming everything off, that I didn't actually finish any of my work, and now I will have to be there Extra Early on Monday morning.

But let's take one day at a time, and today is Friday, hoorah!

Weekend plans include:

Playing with my new ThinkGeek stuff, hoorah!
Doing diddly squat, hoorah!
Playing online games like a gigantic geeky nerd geek, hoorah!
Going shopping at the stocktake sales, hoorah!
Getting out of bed obscenely early tomorrow morning for a work friend who is coming over to pick up some stuff, hoorah! Oh wait, SHIT.
Indulging in lovely food like pies and cake, hoorah!
Enjoying my last weekend before I turn quarter of a century old, hoo...

Oh, who gives a shit, hoorah!

I'm just freaking glad it's the weekend.

Hoorah!