Something different

Tomorrow marks my last day of holidays. I don't particularly want to go back. I've had a fantastic time doing nothing over the last 11 days. I've naturally gone back to my uni body clock. It took all of two days. Sleep til midday, have breakfast, do something for the afternoon (in this case go to the city and do touristy things), come home, watch TV or DVDs til about 2am. Sleep.

I love to sleep. It would have to be one of my favourite past times. Maybe not the whole sleep thing, but being in bed, just lazing there and looking at the clock. So long as your sheets are fresh and its not too hot, I could do it all day. Just me and the cats. If I was dating it would be me and the boy. No sex involved. Just the feel of skin and cloth, comfortable smells, stubble. Closeness.

In the last 11 days I've lost 7 kilos. About 15 pounds for those playing overseas. I've been having diet smoothies at about 1 to 2 pm for breakfast, and maybe a coffee or something late in the afternoon. Usually sitting down by Darling Harbour, watching the seagulls, turtles and people. Just by myself, just sitting, just watching. At these times I savour my drink. Take small sips every now and again. Its cold by the time I finish, but more enjoyable. And after the train ride home I forget to eat dinner.

I got told I look fantastic today. Well, fantastic compared to what I used to be. I really needed the time off. Despite finding out that two guys I like and thought I was getting close to aren't in a position to date. Yess, there was another. No he's not available. I'm beginning to think that nice, single, smart and reasonably attractive guys are a myth. I have a better chance of being eaten by a shark than meeting someone who can love me. And I am NOT a beach person.

I was missing something. I think I have figured out what it is. I am feeling cramped and boxed in. I need to get out and DANCE. Not proper dancing. Just get out and moove to the music. I have a new favourite song. Alice Cooper's "Poison". Yes, almost 20 years after it was released. I get the irony. But every time I hear that song I dance. Just shut my eyes and move. Do whatever I want to. I can't help it. And when its over I put it back on. Its better than wearing out batteries.

Mardi Gras is this weekend. I'm supposed to be working but I asked to have it off before I left. This should definitely scratch that itch. But then there is a problem. Scratching the itch usually leads to the rash being spread. I am tempted to call SR, just for something to do, a bit of excitement. I figure if nice single guys are a fairy tale, then I might as well have myself an arsehole on speed dial for the occasional screaming orgasm. But I know he will not answer his phone. I want to find someone else, but don't want it to be someone that I don't know. I know its crazy. I'm female. I'm not allowed to make sense.

Google

I'm drunk, and bored. So I played with Google. Whatawaste is there. Hot as ever. I even googled SR and his brother. Since SR was a model you'd expect there to be pictures. Theres not. Shame. He was teh hotness. There is a pic of his brother though. *drools at thought of his perfectly gropable butt*

Hands up if you need to get laid.

*waves hand*

I'm on there. But not as me. Well, once. I'm on there for something that... is irrelevant really. Some people might want to be there, but its not something I'd like to be remembered for.When I was at uni I had my own article on one of the major pages. Guess its not there anymore.

I am here as me though. 'Me' being here. As myself, my own name, I don't apparently exist. But as 'me' I'm here. It sucks. 1,500 times over. Apparently my 'net identity is a bit of a slut.

The fisrt actual reference to this actual site is one of my archives, was this. Which made me more depressed.

And then this followed it immediately after. Which made me laugh.

I'm missing something. Deep inside. And I want it back. But I don't know what it was in the first place. I think I'll spend my life looking for something that I can function perfectly fine without.

A little piece of my sadness

I went to the powerhouse museum today. It was fantastic. But quite sad for me really. It made me think of my Nan. She died when I was 16. She used to live in the granny flat behind our house, when my parents were still together. My mum was her carer. When she died my Grandpa lived there for a few more years, but his alziemers made him difficult to deal with, so he went into a nursing home. All of their stuff was packed away and moved into our house, and a boarder took over the flat.

When my parents separated my Mum took what she absolutely needed and moved out. My Dad didn't care about anything in the house. He let his second-wife-to-be go through the house, and anything that she didn't want went straight into the skiff bin. Alot of this stuff was irreplacable. Including

• All of the medallions I'd won for academic success at high school
• Photographs. All of the photographs - his wedding pictures, pictures of his dead mother and nephew, family pictures etc
• Furniture

My Nan collected nick nacks. Well. I say she collected them, but us kids bought her stuff too. I have that from her. If it gathers dust I'll collect it. She had beautiful matching cups and suacers. Probably worth quite a bit of money. I have no idea where they are now. There was a gorgeous antique salmon velvet chair. That was DEFINITELY worth ALOT of money. I have no idea what happened to it. My collectibles. If I hadn't taken it to uni (and who takes anything of value to uni), it was gone. I had a set of ebony and ivory elephants that came from my Nans sister when she died. Gone. The school photos, certifiactes and reports for me, my brother and my sister, from prep to year 12. Same deal with them. I had an extensive collection of plastic horses. There was a quilt cover that was distinctly mine. A gorgeous jungle setting with beautiful red parrots. The embriodery that my nan did. The jewellery that we'd inherited. A longstitch kit that I'd done of two puppies. I'd spent painstaking hours sitting with Nan at night, watching tv, eating Darrell Lea peanut brittle and sewing. Gone. All gone.

Some of the stuff turned up at an ex friend of mines house. One of my longstich tapestries, my Dad's beer brewing cupboard, my Nans deep freeze that she used to store her specialty stewed apples in. That thing must have been as old as me. Her electric fry pan. They knew that seeing all of this stuff at their place got to me. And they were generally ok about it. They offered to give me back the longstitches. But I couldn't take it. It wasn't the same. And it wasn't the special one.

My sister, who worked with him on a daily basis, didn't know what was happening. The 'friends' of mine who acquired so much furniture rang her and told her what was going. And she left work immediately to go collect what she could. She managed to salvage some photos, and my academic medallions. I have no idea what happened to my brother or sisters medallions.

I think that is part of the reason that I will put up with, tolerate and forgive so much. What will lead others to scream "Arsehole" will simply garner a shrug from me. Because until someone does something completely unforgivable, they cannot equal some of the stuff others have already done.

Just one more time

Ok. I know I said I wouldn't. But I make no apologies for this.

Since I last blogged it, I have spoken to WhataWaste (as named by Cazzie!!!). I have a morbid phobia of awkwardness. So when he came down to do some work where I am, I really tried to make it as normal as possible. And just before he left to go back to his own world, he mentioned that we still had to catch up for drinks after work sometime.

And I thought: Yeah. He's still interested. Kinda lazy and unmotivated, but interested.

I sent him a text today letting him know I would be in the city pretty much every day until I went back to work, if it was more convenient for him to catch up there. And I got a reply. He's busy weeknights, maybe next weekend. He has plans for this weekend already...



....



he's going camping with his GIRLFRIEND!!!


Uh. Ok. Here's my freshly torn out heart. Its very small because you took it from someone who feels about 1.5 inches tall.

All I know is that if I were his girlfriend and I saw the texts I'd sent him trying to arrange us meeting up, I'd do my 'nana*. He's had plenty of chances to tell me that he was seeing someone. Such as

• When I was fishing for info about who he spent New Years with ('mostly older people')
• The time I joked about him not getting any on his birthday
• The day after Valentines. WHEN WE WERE TALKING ABOUT WHAT WE DID THE NIGHT BEFORE.

I wouldn't date a guy like that anyway.

*'nana = some obscure Aussie reference to a tantrum. Pronounced like the last bit of banana. Hence the ' in front.

Vombarrasment

You know how you have those moments, where you learn something that you probably should have already known? This is my story of one of those moments.

I went to the Jenolan Caves yesterday. Day 1 of my holidays. And it was fantastic. Well worth the butt numbing 2 and a half hour drive. There was one teensy problem. I hadn't had breakfast and so by the time I got there my blood sugars had dipped. No biggie. I bought my ticket for my tour, grabbed a sammich and bolted it down. Which was all good.

Except that after the 2 hour tour I had that head crushing, low sugar warning that your body does. So I headed back to the cafeteria to grab another sammich. Then I headed off to do a quick self guided tour of one of the caves,which was good but nowhere near as awesome as the tour I'd just been on, and my legs had decided to stop working by that stage.

So I jumped back in the car and decided to head home. Figuring I'd be back by about 7 and should miss peak hour. Somewhere along the road I got this funny feeling in the back of my throat. Which quickly became a funny feeling in my stomach. I pulled over rather quickly, opened the door and leaned out. And what do you know! A magic puddle just appeared on the ground in front of me! I figured that was that, closed the door and drove off.

And I was fine until just before the main turn off. Then the queasyness returned. I decided to try to make it to a servo so I could buy some form of pain killer, plus a sugary drink, and possibly lose the rest of my stomach contents if need be.

I made it to the servo, went inside, selected what I wanted, and approached the counter. Where the lady behind the counter proceeded to have a lengthy discussion with the guy in front of me about everything and anything. And the queasy feeling hit me full force. I held it back, made my purchases and went outside for the toilets.

It came up. I swallowed it down. It came up again. I clamped my hand across my mouth, thinking I'd successfully contained it. Until I felt those twin rivulets running down the back of my fingers. It was at that exact moment that I learned that once you start vomiting out your nose, there is no point trying to hold it back. There is no point. Let it go. Which is what I did. Explosively. All over the ground, my wallet, the $10 note I didn't have time to put in my wallet, and the box of neurophen I'd just bought. And myself.

I bolted into the toilet, and attempted to clean myself up. Releasing the rest of the last dodgy sandwich. And taking two pills before I left. I felt surprisingly ok after that. But on the walk back to my car I held my bag in front of the icky bits, pretending to rummage through it for something.

Though the first things I did when I go home were to have a shower and wash my clothes.

I threw out the wallet. And am now carrying around its essential contents in a ziplock bag.

Pros and cons of being female

Pros:

• You can eat chocolate for breakfast and no-one complains
• You can wear a slightly opaque shirt and save $50 on new tyres
• Holiday calories mean that the chocolate I just ate for breakfast (at 12.15) doesn't count! Huzzah!!!
• Pretty underwear. Seriously, guys underdaks just don't have the same appeal.

Cons:

• Menstrual surprises. On second time worn gorgoeus cream coloured underwear. Thank you jeebus that I know how to do washing.

Holidays at Home

Well it finally happened. I got some time off work. Its a holiday. I had nothing planned. I'm too broke to go away. Fortunately for me I live in one of the greatest cities of the world. And I have yet to explore it. So my holiday plans include

posibly the greatest aquarium I've ever seen.

educational trips

walks

relaxation

exploration

scenic travel routes

maybe a cruise

and just doing my own thing!

If any Sydneysiders have any ideas for a home holiday I'd love to hear them. Its amazing what you can find so close to home.

Things that make you go WTF!?!

I have two very pretty dresses. Amazingly pretty dresses. They are my 'first date dress' and my 'second date dress'. My second date dress is just a flattering as the first, if not a tad formal and old fashioned. But its gorgeous and I've had more comments about this dress than the other. I swear I want my wedding dress modelled on this dress. Where the first is flirty/pretty, this one is classic-gorgeous. I swear I could wear prostitue red lipstick and not look slutty in this dress.

But I have no occasion to wear these dresses. So I've worn them yesterday and today. First and second respectively.

I went to the allergy clinic at work today. All dressed up. I looked like a literal lady. Like your grandma but much, much younger. I'm used to the drill at the clinic. And so when my name got called I went with the murse and jumped on the scales. Since I was there six months ago I've put on 2.7 kilos. According to those scales. And the murse made the very stupid comment 'you've put on weight' and then he actually TUTTED at me! Fucker was lucky I didn't immediately leap over the scales and tear his eyeballs out! I might have looked like a lady but I was a little scrag kid and I lived in the country for three years. I can hold my own.

For the record guys: there are two subjects you CANNOT discuss with women. Age and weight. End of story. Participation is at your own risk and possible consequences include having your testicles confiscated. You have been officially warned.

Stuff

So I've upgraded my template. I got bored with my old one. I might yet change back. But I think change is good. Next up is to update my bloglinks. Some of my 'new blogs' I never visit, and some have turned into daily reads. Some of them have disappeared altogether :( There are also some new links to put up.
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I have finally managed to get the last few episodes of Scrubs that I was missing! Hurrah for me!
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Its raining. Still. Beautiful soaking rain. Just the type we need to help our concrete paths grow, and slick down our roads. Rain in the city isn't the same. Its still lovely. But its dirty. you dont want it on your skin. When I lived in the country I was known as the girl who would go dancing in the rain. Then the rain was clean and fresh. It was eagerly awaited. You lived and breathed for the rain. When it came it was a cause for celebration. You were going to last tht little bit longer.

I asked myself today 'What happened to the phish who used to dance in the rain'. The truth is she's still there. Its not me who has changed. Its the rain.

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Since I switched over to blogger beta I cannot stay signed in. Its a pain in the proverbial. Any hints anybody?
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I went over to Westfield to get lunch today. I choose to say it was healthy. And on my way down to level 1 to pick up some non-fat, non-carb Krispy Kreme (I can dream can't I?) I was walking behind a guy wearing a blue workshirt, sleeves rolled up, balck pants and swinging a blue and white striped umbrella. And then a guy, dressed EXACTLY THE SAME with the same FREAKING UMBRELLA walks by in the opposite direction. He was a little shorter, a bit more heavyset and his hair was fractionally lighter.

I was so spun out. The way he was walking, and swinging his umbrella, even the way his sleves were rolled up were EXACTLY THE SAME. And yet they appeared to not notice each other. Weird huh?

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And lastly this was linked on another blog, as a result of a comment I left. I found it HILAROIUS. Enjoy.
















It still cracks me up.

Ahh, blessed internet

I had no internet last night. Stupid wireless adapter picked a night where I had nothing to do to die :(



I just checked my emails. There was a sexual horoscope thing that said every sign was the most amazing in bed, best kisser and had the most sex appeal. Obviosuly this was one of those emails where you're not supposed to read the others. Woops!



And I also found the following. They're doing the rounds so my apologies if anybody has seen them already.

In the 1400's a law was set forth in England that a man was allowed to beat his wife with a stick no thicker than his thumb. Hence we have "the rule of thumb" -------------------------------------------

Men can read smaller print than women can; women can hear better.
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Coca-Cola was originally green
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It is impossible to lick your elbow.
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The percentage of Africa that is wilderness: 28% The percentage of North America that is wilderness: 38%
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The cost of raising a medium-size dog to the age of eleven: $6,400
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Intelligent people have more zinc and copper in their hair
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Each king in a deck of playing cards represents a great king from history: Spades - King David
Hearts - Charlemagne
Clubs -Alexander, the Great
Diamonds - Julius Caesar
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If a statue in the park of a person on a horse has both front legs in the air, the person died in battle. If the horse has one front leg in the air the person died as a result of wounds received in battle. If the horse has all four legs on the ground, the person died of natural causes.
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Q. What is the only food that doesn't spoil?
A. Honey
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In Shakespeare's time, mattresses were secured on bed frames by ropes. When you pulled on the ropes the mattress tightened, making the bed firmer to sleep on. Hence the phrase......... "goodnight, sleep tight."
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It was the accepted practice in Babylon 4,000 years ago that for a month after the wedding, the bride's father would supply his son-in-law with all the mead he could drink. Mead is a honey beer and because their calendar was lunar based, this period was called the honey month, which we know today as the honeymoon
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In English pubs, ale is ordered by pints and quarts... So in old England , when customers got unruly, the bartender would yell at them "Mind your pints and quarts, and settle down."
It's where we get the phrase "mind your P's and Q's"

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Mary and her husband Jim had a dog, Lucky. Lucky was a real character. Whenever Mary and Jim had company come for a weekend visit they would warn their friends to not leave their luggage open because Lucky would help himself to whatever struck his fancy. Inevitably, someone would forget and something would come up missing. Mary or Jim would go to Lucky's toy box in the basement and there the treasure would be, amid all of Lucky's favorite toys.
Lucky always stashed his finds in his toy box and he was very particularthat his toys stay in the box.

It happened that Mary found out she had breast cancer. Something told her she was going to die of this disease, she was just sure it was fatal. She scheduled the double mastectomy, fear riding her shoulders. The night before she was to go to the hospital she cuddled with Lucky. A thought struck her...what would happen to Lucky? Although the three-year-old dog liked Jim, he was Mary's dog through and through. If I die, Lucky will be abandoned, Mary thought. He won't understand that I didn't want to leave him. The thought made her sadder than thinking of her own death.

The double mastectomy was harder on Mary than her doctors had anticipated and Mary was hospitalized for over two weeks. Jim took Lucky for his evening walk faithfully, but the little dog just drooped, whining and miserable. Finally the day came for Mary to leave the hospital. When she arrived home, Mary was so exhausted she couldn't even make it up the steps to her bedroom. Jim made his wife comfortable on the couch and left her to nap. Lucky stood watching Mary but he didn't come to her when she called. It made Mary sad but sleep soon overcame her and she dozed.

When Mary woke for a second she couldn't understand what was wrong. She couldn't move her head and her body felt heavy and hot. But panic soon gave way to laughter when Mary realized the problem. She was covered, literally blanketed, with every treasure Lucky owned! While she had slept, the sorrowing dog had made trip after trip to the basement bringing his beloved mistress all his favorite things in life. He had covered her with his love. Mary forgot about dying. Instead she and Lucky began living again, walking further and further together every night. It's been 12 years now and Mary is still cancer-free.

Lucky? He still steals treasures and stashes them in his toy box but Mary remains his greatest treasure.

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The International Rules of Manhood
1. Under no circumstances may two men share an umbrella.
2 . It is OK for a man to cry ONLY under the following circumstances:
(a) When a heroic dog dies to save its master.
(b) The moment Angelina Jolie starts unbuttoning her blouse.
(c) After wrecking your boss's car.
(d) 1 hour, 12 minutes, 37 seconds into "The Crying Game".
(e) When she is using her teeth.
3 . Any Man who brings a camera to a bachelor party may be legally and eaten by his buddies.
4. Unless he murdered someone in your family, you must bail a friend out of jail within 12 hours.
5. If you've known a guy for more than 24 hours, his sister is off limits forever unless you actually marry her.
6 . Moaning about the brand of free beer in a buddy's fridge is forbidden... However complain at will if the temperature is unsuitable.
7 . No man shall ever be required to buy a birthday present for another man... in fact, even remembering your buddy's birthday is strictly optional... at that point, you must celebrate at a strip bar of the birthday boy's choice.
8 . On a road trip, the strongest bladder determines pit stops, not the weakest.
9. When stumbling upon other guys watching a sporting event, you may ask the score of the game in progress, but you may never ask who's playing.
10. You may flatulate in front of a woman only after you have brought her to climax. If you trap her head under the covers for the purpose of flatulent entertainment, she's officially your girlfriend.
11 . It is permissible to drink a fruity alcoholic drink only when you're sunning on a tropical beach... and it's delivered by a topless model... and only when it's free.
12 . Only in situations of moral and/or physical peril are you allowed to kick another guy in the nuts.
13 . Unless you're in prison, never fight naked.
14 . Friends don't let friends wear Speedos. Ever. Issue closed.
15 . If a man's fly is down that's his problem. You didn't see anything.
16 . Women who claim they "love to watch sports" must be treated as spies until they demonstrate knowledge of the game and the ability to drink as much as the other sports watchers.
17 . A man in the company of a hot, suggestively dressed woman must remain sober enough to fight for her .
18 . Never hesitate to reach for the last beer or the last slice of pizza. But never both, that's just greedy.
19 . If you compliment a guy on his six-pack you'd better be talking about his choice of beer.
20 . Never join your girlfriend or wife in discussing a friend of yours. Except of course if she's withholding sex pending your response.
21 . Phrases that may NOT be uttered to another man while lifting eights at the gym;
(a) Yeah, Baby, Push it!
(b) C'mon, give me one more! Harder!
(c) Another set and we can hit the showers!
22 . Never talk to a man in a bathroom unless you are on equal footing: i.e., both urinating, both waiting in line, etc. For all other situations, an almost imperceptible nod is all the conversation you need.
23. Never allow a telephone conversation with a woman to go on longer than you are able to have sex with her. Keep a stopwatch by the phone. Hang up if necessary.
24 . The morning after you and a girl who was formerly "just a friend" have carnal, drunken freaky monkey sex, the fact that you're feeling weird and guilty is no reason for you not to nail each other again before the discussion about what a big mistake it was occurs.
25 . It is acceptable for you to drive her car. It is not acceptable for her to drive yours.
26 . Thou shalt not buy a car in the colours of brown, pink, lime green, orange or sky blue.
27 . The girl who replies to the question "What do you want for Christmas?" with "If you loved me, you'd know what I want!" . gets an Xbox. .End of story.
28 . There is no reason for guys to watch Ice Skating or Men's Gymnastics. Ever.

The curse of the broken gina continues

I'm a sucker for punishment. Time and time again I've been told to stay away from a guy and I keep going back. Sometimes I tell myself that it doesn't really matter, that I'm not emotionally invested and never really will be.

This time it was different. I'm not saying that to justify it to anybody. This guy was better than the others. But I guess that even the better guys are inconsiderate scum.

Because he seemed better than the avarage amoeba I gave him a second shot. I zipped him a quick text asking if he wanted to reshedule. Two days ago. And have not heard a response.

I can be a little slow on the uptake when it comes to guys. I'm usually quite the realist (read: pessimist) when it comes to the way guys see me. But everything I knew told me this guy was interested. When I spoke to him early in the week he actually seemed surprised that I was talking about work stuff. So I didn't really see that coming.

I might get blown off once. But it rarely happens twice, and NEVER a third time. So unless he makes a damn sincere effort to change my mind (and it will take quite alot of work!) this is the last post about mancandy.

"Feel it on my fingertips"

Its raining outside. Beautiful, life giving rain. Its been a bit warm lately. And the temperature has dropped to perfection. I can hear the cars outside, swooshing through the wet. I don't envy their drivers. Occasionally a siren will go off, followed by the blast of a horn as the emergency driver tries to navigate his way through the bustle of peak hour.

Outside the sky is grey. Tonights beautiful sunset has been robbed. The skyline is obscured by a thick grey curtain. It dims the light. I should be able to see out, at the distant lights, but they are beyond the monotony. I stare out, and a breeze caresses my cheek, reminding me of the good things to come. Change is inevitabe, though independant of our needs and desires. Not unlike the coming of the rain.

Life goes on, and the world still turns. And I await the rain, the life giver who rejuvenates my soul.

The Outrage!!!

Someone has been using my car for spare parts. While Clancy was parked in the locked garage in the basement someone violated him and took his drivers side windscreen wiper. The whole fucking thing!

Because he's a happy 2004 model, nobody is wrecking them yet. And I have to buy myself a nice new and very expensive replacement. It makes me SOOO mad!

Blogworthy indeedy.

So I had plans for tonight. I had, for the first time EVER in my life. Asked a guy out. Asked an amazing, hot, sweet, fantastic guy out. Actually made plans for dinner, using the actual phrase 'go out' lots in the conversation.

And astoundingly he said yes!

So I've been so excited for the last few days. Its exhausting. Literally.

Today was the big day. All he had to do was tell me what time he would finish work and we'd arrange meeting place/time from there. But considering recent arrangements I've had, and my propensity for the scummy side of man, I had a nagging paranoia that he would call to tell me he couldn't make it, or even worse, he wouldn't call at all.

See I have the theory that if you dont have high expectations you cannot be let down. I can't imagine how crushed I'd be right now if I didn't have that theory.

He bailed.

I'd like to send personal thanks to SR for all of his help. I'd be a blubbering, drunken mess without all of his preparations. Thanks to him I don't have the capacity to hurt. Instead I feel anger. I'm now an angry, jilted drunken mess. Much better.