Whoever said that money can't buy happiness has clearly not been buying the right things! I present to you my favourite purchase of the post christmas sales -
And it was pretty cheap too. I heart sales. I didn't really buy much there. I mostly splurged on Christmas gift packs (50 to 70% off) and got cooking sauces/ mustards etc. I did get some chocolate. But it was the freddo frog stocking type, so not really much in that. But I'm still happy with my shiny bits.
***
I go a hell of a surprise this morning when I woke up. I meandered out to the kitchen to get brekkie and what do I see sitting on the bench looking at me? Just the biggest fucking garden skink I've ever seen in my life! How he managed to not be eaten by the cats and end up half masticated in my bed is a mystery to me. Wikipedia says they grow to a maximum of 14 cm, rarely exceeding 9. Well, I tell you this bastard was about 20! Of course wikipedia also called them skinkie's, so I don't have a lot of faith in that article.
He was quite calm for a skink. Though, as usual, quite hard to catch. I chased him under the microwave, under the dishes, back under the microwave, around the cereal, and back under the microwave. Before finally catching him. And, like most skinks, once he was on my wrist, he stayed there. He did try to pop over the edge of the bench, but stopped when he realised it had anoverhang and he couldn't just run down it. Boots was eating her brekkie and watching me with mild interest just happened to see it. And she froze. Mummy was playing with a self propelled toy! And she wanted.
The skink, defying death from the one place he cannot be touched.
So I go thim outside in my potted herbs. He was kinda cute and I hope he sticks around.
It had been a while coming. Several games of pool on our lunch breaks. Some idle flirting. Nothing really out there. I knew he liked what he saw, regardless of if I played in a low cut dress or a tee. Although he did appreciate watching me lean over the table and handle the pool cue in the dress.
To me he was another guy at work. Friendly, helpful. But one day in the lunch area he was wearing this tight muscle shirt. Very much not dress code. Normally he wore polo shirts. But that day... the day that started it, he looked very different. Nonchalantly sexy. It showed him off quite well. Tight muscles, one tattoo on his arm, one half hidden across the base of his neck. It appeared to be writing of some sort, and I was instantly intrigued as to what it said. I would have bet my panties that he had more too.
Like I said, sexy.
I pondered how to bed this guy. It would be relatively simple. A mention that I'd go there and he'd be putty in my hands. Except putty is soft. And he wouldn't be. Ahh yes, he'd be my bitch. Available when I wanted him. I wondered what he'd be like in bed. Would he be rough, or timid? I suspected he'd be quite considerate, but more for his ego than for his partner's satisfaction. And that suited me quite fine.
At work functions he orbited the area that I was in. Watching. Not really hanging out with me, but always around. A few times I did catch him looking. I was a touch creeped when the other guy he was talking to was watching me too. I had hoped that it would be that night. I'd shaved and gotten ready for it. But sadly, he wasn't walking in straight lines by the end of the night. Looking back I should have taken him, but I left with my boss. And I didn't want him to leave with us. Stupid, stupid girl. Hindsight sucks. I decided to make that up to him. And to me. God knows I needed a good rough fuck.
A week later the emails began. Idle chit chat. A touch of flirtation. An offer for drinks after work one night. A few days to arrange for it to happen, for our shcedules to click. For my roomie to be out.
We'd selected a quiet pub in my suburb. I'd have two drinks. Then mention that I lived a block from here. Kiss him in the elevator and have his cock in my mouth by the time I hit the light switch at home. Great plan!
And the best laid plans always go astray.
He caught the train in, arrived half an hour before we were due to meet. I'd stepped out of the shower and was halfway through moisturising when he rang. I couldn't resist. A quick run of my fingers over my clit as I stood there, naked, talking to him on the phone. I was tempted to just tell him to come over, but he'd probably get lost. I had to head out to see him without doing my make up. I figured it wasn't a big deal. I'd probably sweat it off anyway.
I was surprised when I saw him. He was dressed quite nicely. Light blue dress shirt. It looked like silk, though I would have bet my bra it wasn't. Not on his wage. Then again, he had matched it with suit pants. I figured I'd find out soon enough.
The initial meeting was awkward. There was a moment where we hesistated. Do we shake hands or make out? I settled for a kiss on the cheek. Lingering there just long enough to be suggestive. He told me he hadn't had dinner yet. Could we change our plans and have something to eat instead? Near the train station was a strip of restaurants. I was in heels, so I was more than happy to go somewhere close.
Again, I was surprised when I suggested a casual noodle bar and he turned it down. He wanted something better. Something that served steak. Jeez. Steak? I never eat steak. Its too expensive and it makes for a long dinner. Maybe that's what he wanted. Gawd, I really didn't want this to turn into a date. Nerves began to jangle as he took my hand, twining fingers into mine, and led me a 20 minute walk to the restaurant he wanted.
Conversation flowed easily. It stalled in places, but wasn't really awkward. The weather was a good topic. He wasn't from around here, so he wasn't used to the heat and humidity. Of course, with the heat and the humidity came a lack of clothes, and he wasn't complaining.We quizzed each other about family, friends, locations, jobs, travel plans. God, why would he bother with a date? He doesn't have plans to stay and I'm not inclined to date.
We got to the restaurant and he managed to get us a quiet table, for the two of us. The lights were dimmed and the ambient noise was low. He sat opposite me and we leaned in to talk some more. He ordered steak. I had a salad, dressing on the side. Shaddup. I'm weight obsessed and he already knew it. He ordered drinks for us. 2 bourbons. Mine a diet. And some cheese bread for entree. God, he was going to make me eat it. Cheese and bread? Calories galore.
The bread arrived with our drinks, and I declined to touch it. I wasn't really that hungry. He pressed the issue, and I distracted him by stretching my legs out and pressing them up against his. My legs were silky smooth and the fabric of his pants felt quite pleasant. Automatically, I rubbed my leg up against him. His eyes widened and he leaned in even closer, almost touching me. All awkwardness gone. All pretense disappeared. He wanted to get laid just as badly as I did. He just hid it better.
His eyes narrowed, his voice dropped a little. Aside from that he continued as if I hadn't done anything. But was that a little pressure I felt against my leg? Was he pressing back without rubbing? I eased my leg away from his, and it followed. I reached for my drink, looking up at him as I took a sip, with a dirty smile on my face. He'd see that look later, but instead of a straw, it would be his cock in my mouth.
The waiter interrupted our little moment. He was a little embarrassed, placing our food on the table and departing as quickly as possible. Surprisingly, the addition of food did little to stop the chatter. It also did little to dull the tension between us. The looks became sharper as the night wore on. The jokes became wittier, the touching more full on. I ached to reach under the table and grab him. I ached to kiss him, nibble him, rip his shirt off, have him inside me. A warm breeze blew through the room, and suddenly all I could smell was him. I was sure I was wet. Anticipation was killing me.
We didn't finish our meal. Our eyes met as I placed a piece of... something in my mouth. I think it was cheese. He politely requested that I tell him when I was ready to go. I put my fork down and gave the most simple, but obvious reply.
'Now.'
He called for the check. Downed his drink. It had been refilled at some stage but I was too wrapped up in the tension to realise when. He put down a card and the waiter whisked it away before I could even get my wallet out to pay my share. He leaned over the table and asked in a Vin Diesel voice, 'How far away from here do you live?'
I consdered a brief moment before replying. He nodded once. The check was returned. He signed the slip and we walked out into the balmy night. A storm may have been rolling in. Or it could have been snowing. We were clueless. The only thing of consequence at that time was each other.
He raised his well muscled arm to hail a taxi, slipping the other one over my bare shoulders. The feel of his skin slipping over mine sent tingles down my spine. As the taxi slowed down he pulled me to him and gently kissed me. As our lips touched a shiver ran down my chest, igniting my nipples, coiling hot and raw in my stomach, and flooding down to my hips.
Christmas is tricky. Very tricky. There's the whole 'what do I get...?' and 'what if they don't get me anything?' Well, I managed to get my workmates something they always enjoy... FOOD! I made a cookies and cream cheesecake for them. It was absolutely delicious and shit easy to make. If you want the recipe email me and I'll send it. And I supplied a massive bowl of cherries for them too. Mostly because I buy a box of cherries each year at this time, but partially because I'm too stingy to buy them each something individually. Recession etc etc.
Well this cheesecake was so massive we each had a double helping, then we fed it to two other departments and then I took it upstairs and left it in the fridge with a 'help yourself' note attached. Seriously. Nommy.
So I'm left with one more group of people to give a gift to. And that's you guys. My very special and much loved readers. For you guys I have the perfect gift. Something that you always love. So stay tuned. I'm working hard on this one for you.
A lifetime ago, I used to listen to country music. Not a lifetime. Another person, another place away, in my not to distant past. I was so sure. Of everything. I knew who I was, what I wanted to do with my life. I knew that I could get the world if I worked hard enough. I knew that some day I'd be somebody. I'd count. I'd make a difference. Now I live in Sydney. I do make a difference. I do some serious help to the world. But if I didn't, someone else would take my place. I don't know if anyone notices I'm gone from my old job, even though I put my soul into it.
I knew what I wanted out of my love life. I wanted to be the world to someone. I wanted someone who would give up everything for me. Even though I'd never let them do it, I still wanted someone who would do it. I just didn't know how to attain the ideal. Now I don't have that ideal, and I still can't attain it. I want to love somebody, but I've been shattered by guys in the past, and pieces are missing. I don't know if I'm capable of it. I've never been in love, and I'm too jaded to believe that I can do it.
I didn't give a damn about what anyone thought of me. Ponder how much that has changed.
I used to make friends so easily. I'd just be there and they'd be drawn to me. I had all the time for all the people. I was out socialising every night. Now I'm home, stuck to facebook or one of my blogs. I miss that. Life was slower but more energetic. Now its hecticly fast, but kind of empty.
Now I'm not that girl anymore. I am someone different. More focused, more competetive, more retarded. I'm not as insecure as I was. I have grown. But tonight I wish I was still her. The girl from my past. When life was simple. Though that might have been because I didn't understand the rules.
For tonight. Just one night, I'm going back to that time. A storm is rolling in and I will log off the internet, and sit and watch it. For one night I shall be that girl.
I am so uncoordinated. Its amazing. Truly. I have a propensity to fall down at random moments. Usually in public and most of the time in the presence of hot guys. My klutziness in this past week has outweighed Steph.
Monday, cold as fuck, wore shorts to work. It was wet and rainy. I wore white.
Tuesday, walking to the train station, I slipped. I wobbled for half a moment, then gracefully (as gracefully as someone falling over can be) managed to slide down onto my knee. Cue bruise on my knee and sore toes.
Wednesday I wore thongs to the station. Running up the escalator the tip of my thong clipped the step, and I stacked it. If I hadn't been hanging onto the rail, I would have fallen onto my arse. As it was, I managed to grab the rail and swing there for a second. Cue one wrenched wrist and a lovely set of bruises on my ankles.
Thursday I didn't fall over. I did walk straight past a co worker in the street without even seeing her, but no physical injuries. I was busy congratulating myself as I was preparing for bed that I walked straight into the end of my bed. Cue epic bruise on my thigh.
Yesterday took the cake. I got to the train station and was fossicking through my bag for my wallet when I realised... I left it at home. Cue a 20 minute round trip home, in the rain, to collect said wallet.
But this retardedness is nothing compared to what I have seen on the sphere this week. Some botched abortion, right wing 'christian' is haunting some of my fave gay bloggers. I will not link this useless fuckstain. Nobody wants to read his regurgitated religious propaganda and underlying hate for gays and alcoholics. Hell, if you manage to track this useless arseclown down, and you read his profile, you'll see a litany of books, music and movies listed that have a big chunk of gay influence, sex and violence. As another blogger who comments on my mates blog pointed out, 'Nothing wrong with that, provided you are not preaching to others about right and wrong'. I'm going to begin a rant here. If you don't want to read it, skip down and comment on how retarded I am.
He has four or so biblical quotes that he drivels out, no matter how irrelevant they are. Clearly he's never actually read the bible himself. If he did he would have noticed that there are TWO stories of creation. In the first chapter of the whole, gigantic motherload of bullshit, you find an epic contrast of the same story. Yeah, right. The bible is a great story. Its fiction, not fact, and is not meant to be treated as such. The most important part of the book is the underlying message. One of love, forgiveness and tolerance. He seems to have missed that. Jesus healed lepers and hung out with prostitutes. He was friends with the worst of the worst in that society. What he could not change, he embraced. He still loved those who were sinners. What is wrong with this buttmonkey that he cannot do the same? Does he think he's better than Jesus? Has he forgotten the humility that he lived his life with?
I pointed out these to him on his blog. But funnily enough he has comment moderation on. I'm not surprised, anyone who spews as much hate as this guy around the place is due for some return fire. He leaves comment around various blogs gloating that people are going to hell for 'choosing' to be gay. Don't even get me started on the 'choice' thing. Its bad enough that he's doing the very un-Christian thing in rejoicing that someone is going to hell. The true Christians I know would be saddened by it. Though I had to laugh at the comment he left here. You know, two seconds before I deleted it.
NEWSFLASH wanker - I'M NOT GAY!!! I HAVE A VERY HEALTHY LOVE OF PENIS!!!
Tool. It just really bugs me that he feels free to go spew whatever vitriol he pleases, where he will. Without regard for people's feelings. And without giving them the same freedom to express themselves in return. He choses to only air the self righteous comments and those supporting his views on his blog. To me, this guy is the sort of person who turns me away from religion.
So the reaction to the haircut has been pretty much what's been seen here. Generally 'Wow,' *2 second pause* 'I like it!'
In the spirit of the new look, I decided it was high time I bought some new clothes. My old ones were hanging off me, except for my jeans, which didn't fit when I started the diet.
I dunno what it is, but I can see the fuggest clothes and make them look good. There have been several times when I've tried on clothes for the freak value, only to find out that they look fucking hot. My fave example of this was a pair of poo brown corduroy pants that looked like they'd been made out of carpet. Seriously, they were FUG! But when I tried them on, they were HAWT!
I've digressed.
So I shopped my size 16 arse off. New dress that's fug on the rack, but absolutely stunning on my rack. A few new shirts, new underwear, new socks, new gym clothes. I bought everything except pants. I even picked up a pair of shoes that go with absolutely everything.
I was stoked to be buying size 14 tops and dresses. Its a huge change for me. I've gone from a 16-18 to a 14-16. I didn't want to buy a whole lot cuz I'm broke, and
So when I got my few purchases home I looked at my overflowing cupboards and decided to clean them out.
Eight bags of clothes to throw out...
My cupboards are now looking a little desolate. Ahh well. Post Christmas sales are coming up...
When I told the hairdresser I wanted a really short pixie cut, she was really dubious. I've had short hair before and I knew I could pull it off. Damn, she got really enthusiastic when most of it was gone. I think she was more excited than me!
This time of year is quite funny. More ironic and strange than humourous. I usually spend Christmases alone. Which is no drama. I've done it for 5 years. I usually make a little deal of it, but it is just another day. Have a nice roast turkey lunch with veges, or, for the past few years, I've had turkey, ham and salad. Spend the morning opening presents, have a yummy lunch, and have pudding for dessert.
For the first time in 3 years I get a Christmas off. Which is quite strange.
Today is my Grandmothers birthday. Its 20 days to Christmas. Today is traditionally the day I put up the Christmas tree. If it doesn't go up by Nan's birthday, it doesn't go up at all. This year I got a little psyched about doing Christmas. But now I'm broke, I told my family I wouldn't be doing Christmas this year. I'd have to post everything to each individual, which is expensive and a pain int he arse. I got something for my mum. I had to post her a birthday present already. Silly old bag has already unwrapped it. Sometimes I wonder who's supposed to be the kid here. I also got something for my dad. I bought it off the net and they automatically post it.
I bought a gift for a mate too. She hasn't opened it, but its the kind of thing that is best opened prior to Christmas.
This Christmas I'm going to have turkey, ham and salad. Gotta stick to the diet. The only concessions I'm making is to have 2 mince pies, 2 little puddings, 2 little cakes and a pack of choc chip gingerbread in the week around. I still have to lose a heap of weight before New Year.
Its funny sometimes. Since I've been in Sydney, each New Year has been the direct opposite of how the previous year was. My first year here, I went out with my roomies. The following year, I was out of touch with pretty much all of them. That year I went out with my current roomie and some of her mates. Now I don't hang out with my roomie as much as I used to, and the last time I spoke to some of the guys before was prior to last New Year.
Last year I got ditched without notice. I refused to let that get to me, so I went to the city by myself, hung out, watched the crowds and fireworks. No real biggie. This year should have been better. This year by all rights I should be going out with a huge crowd, being the life of the party. This year I'll be doing the same as last year. I'll be out at Darling Harbour. One face amongst a million. Watching. Not interacting. In the middle of the crowd, but not a part of the crowd. I'll watch the fireworks, wander around a little, have a coffee, watch the next fireworks and the dissipating crowd. Then I'll catch a crowded train full of revellers and go home by myself.
Its kind of sad.
***UPDATE*** I do have offers of something to do Christmas Day. The truth is I prefer to spend it alone. I am working Christmas eve and boxing day, so travelling somewhere is out. Likewise, I'm working New Years Eve, so I've gotta be in Sydney for it. It just sucks spending New Years alone.
My life is a series of moments. Some of which are easily classified. Some of which are not. This is an easily classified one...
There was a grasshopper in my kitchen this morning. What he was doing there was an absolute mystery to me. I live 5 floors up. I spotted the bug before my kitties. Which is a good thing, because if the cats had seen it before me I can guarantee it would have shown up half masticated in my bed before I even had my coffee.
I decided to remove said hopper to a safer place. Namely, anywhere outside. So after my coffee (cuz I attempt nothing without it) I chased the critter around the dishes, through the sink, over the stove and finally into my left hand. I cupped my right hand over it to keep it concealed from the cats. And promptly realised that I had a choice of doors to let it out of. I could go through two locked doors and throw it off the balcony, or I could go through one door that required two hands to open, and take it down the elevator with me on the way to work and drop in the the front garden.
Humm.
I opted to throw it off the balcony, managed to free one hand and open both sliding doors. I threw the little bug off the balcony and watched him fly off to a safe haven, a tree about 30 metres away. I really had to go to work, but I decided to watch the bug for a few moments and enjoy the warm glow of having saved a creatures life.
Only to have it utterly shattered as a Currawong lazily flew up and had little bug for breakfast.
You were my first crush. We used to spit at each other at recess and I cut my hair one day flirting with you. I always thought you were hot. Still do, though I haven't seen you in years. I have a soft spot for you. Your best mate is a cunt.
Warm smiles forever,
Phish
Leigh,
You were my best mate and I liked you just as much as you liked me. I chickened out and set you up with your first girlfriend instead. You were still a great mate, and I'd do anything for you. But I haven't spoken to you in ages and I do miss you.
Call me sometime
Phish
Clint.
You were a mistake, but an important one at that. I wanted you, you wanted my best mate. I was drunk and horny, by your device. It was cold and you had a small penis. You could barely get it in. Just how every girl dreams of losing her virginity. NOT!
I set my standards by you these days. And every time I think of dropping them, I remember that night, and my resolve is strengthened to keep them so damned high.
BTW, you have a perpetual look on your face like you've just been hit across the back of the head with a frypan. Do something about it please.
Matt.
You were my counsellor during my parents divorce. I opened up, but was too screwed up to let you in. Thankyou forever.
Phish
J-Man
You are my best mate. I love you. I should have stayed and married you instead. I went to Sydney, you went to the Territory to muster cattle. We are world apart.
I'm sorry that you were the only person I could turn to when I was betrayed by my best mate. I'm sorry that someone else got me pregnant. Its not right. You can't have kids and I can. You want them and I don't. Why did it happen? I would have kept him. You would have loved him even though he wasn't yours. I'm sorry that you got hurt out of it. Before you knew of that, you were planning to move to NSW. Instead you went the other way, as far as you could, and I'll never have you.
You hold a piece of my heart and I don't really want it back. Look after it.
Part of me will always love you. I still dream of going back to Brisbane to be with you some day, but you're not there anymore. If you came to Sydney I'd be yours in a heartbeat.
Phish
SR,
Cunt. You hurt me more than I thought possible. I'll never trust you again.
Green Eyes
I was infatuated. I'm comfortable with you. We are so different. But you don't care about what anyone thinks of you, you are who you are. How can I not be comfortable around that?
I still think of you as a friend. I'd love to catch up sometime, see you in person rather than emails etc.
Movie sometime?
Overflow,
I did like you. I did want more. But it ended before it got there. I thought of you as a friend. After it was over you didn't even want to know my name. I thought you were a nice guy. Thanks for proving to me that even nice guys are assholes. It was a hard lesson to learn. Cruel to be kind and all.
The skink, defying death from the one place he cannot be touched.
So I go thim outside in my potted herbs. He was kinda cute and I hope he sticks around.
