Well. Its crazy. Life has it in for me, I swear to gawd!
I'm broke. Broke, broke, broke. Not quite destitute, but I won't be clothes shopping for a few weeks. And I got a letter in the mail today. A few months ago my health insurance company merged with another, and I got a pay out. Yay for free money. Well, it wasn't really free. I had to give it to them first...
Anyhoo. I got a letter in the mail today. It seems I wasn't paid quite enough last time. Woot! More free money. I flip to the statement to read just how much I get and I see...
$5.37
Anti climatic much?
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Sunday, January 11, 2009
#574
Well, as much as I think men are fucked, I still cannot get over the glory of the cock. *sigh*
I don't truly beleive the rant that was last post. I know of one or two truly decent guys. Very, very few, considering how many I know. Everyone has issues. Mine are many. Trust is a big one of them. I don't know if I'll ever really be able to trust a guy. And that makes me angry. Hence - the rant.
Moving on.
I went to a hens night last night. The 'hen' was my best mates sister. She'd originally planned a big, wild hens night, but changed it, piece by piece, to suit her friends, until it disintegrated. She canceled the night, but her sister decided to throw her a party anyway, and invite all of her own friends.
I was drafted to help set up the party. I had an hour at home after work, had a light lunch, and headed out the door.
When I arrived there were three others there - my friend, the hen, and my friends roomie (a guy). We cleaned and set up for the party - prepped nibblies, arranged drinks and iced the 'triple dick delight'. Each of us girls got to decorate a cock cake. Guess which one was mine? (Kez, no cheating)
We had it all set up, when my friends other friends arrived. I had only met them once. Her roomie had met some of them once, the hen had never met them. They breezed in, went straight outside and started smoking and chatting amongst themselves. They'd come in occasionally to mix more cocktails. A few of them disappeared into my friends room, and when they left it had a lovely, herbal scent to it.
The hen disappeared to get ready to go out. The roomie and myself prepped food, mixed drinks, and wandered around aimlessly in between. I'd go outside to talk to the group, but several times ended up with people standing in front of me to talk to someone at the other end of the circle. I gave up and headed back inside to pick at the food.
The food was distinctly not diet. Party pies, yum cha, cheese board, ships and cocktail frankfurts. And a bowl of chocolate. I had been picking the chocolate whilst filling the giant penis pinata. But I felt sick by this stage and did nothing but push the chocolate around in the bowl. I'd go find the hen and chat to her, or wonder if I could go watch telly with the roomie. I didn't think I was going to the pub afterwards. Partly because I felt sick, partly because I didn't like their chosen venue (the guys there make my skin crawl), but mostly because I felt so out of place with her other friends. They were all 10 or more years older than me, drunk, stoned and really clicky with each other.
I had offered to drive them to the pub, and I was hanging out until they decided to go. About 8 I was out there talking to them, when I ended up in a corner. Well, I say talking to them, but the reality is that I was standing there, while they talked. Several of them were smoking and waving said cigarettes around. I tried to tolerate it, but it was becoming more than uncomfortable to me. I ended up waving the cigarette smoke away. The guy got really defensive and I began to walk inside again. As I stepped through the threshold he yelled after me, 'Fucking non smokers. Really ruin a party.'
I muttered to myself 'May as well go home'. As soon as those words had left my mouth I knew that was the best option for me. I put my glass down, said good bye to the roomie and the hen. Walked to the door, put my shoes on, yelled goodbye to my friend, and walked.
I was feeling quite green around the gills by the time I got home. My stomach was rejecting the quality of food that I'd been eating. It wasn't until I got rid of the last cocktail frank (all four of them!) that my stomach began to settle.
And then I watched an episode of NCIS and went to bed. What a riveting night.
I don't truly beleive the rant that was last post. I know of one or two truly decent guys. Very, very few, considering how many I know. Everyone has issues. Mine are many. Trust is a big one of them. I don't know if I'll ever really be able to trust a guy. And that makes me angry. Hence - the rant.Moving on.
I went to a hens night last night. The 'hen' was my best mates sister. She'd originally planned a big, wild hens night, but changed it, piece by piece, to suit her friends, until it disintegrated. She canceled the night, but her sister decided to throw her a party anyway, and invite all of her own friends.
I was drafted to help set up the party. I had an hour at home after work, had a light lunch, and headed out the door.
When I arrived there were three others there - my friend, the hen, and my friends roomie (a guy). We cleaned and set up for the party - prepped nibblies, arranged drinks and iced the 'triple dick delight'. Each of us girls got to decorate a cock cake. Guess which one was mine? (Kez, no cheating)
We had it all set up, when my friends other friends arrived. I had only met them once. Her roomie had met some of them once, the hen had never met them. They breezed in, went straight outside and started smoking and chatting amongst themselves. They'd come in occasionally to mix more cocktails. A few of them disappeared into my friends room, and when they left it had a lovely, herbal scent to it.
The hen disappeared to get ready to go out. The roomie and myself prepped food, mixed drinks, and wandered around aimlessly in between. I'd go outside to talk to the group, but several times ended up with people standing in front of me to talk to someone at the other end of the circle. I gave up and headed back inside to pick at the food.
The food was distinctly not diet. Party pies, yum cha, cheese board, ships and cocktail frankfurts. And a bowl of chocolate. I had been picking the chocolate whilst filling the giant penis pinata. But I felt sick by this stage and did nothing but push the chocolate around in the bowl. I'd go find the hen and chat to her, or wonder if I could go watch telly with the roomie. I didn't think I was going to the pub afterwards. Partly because I felt sick, partly because I didn't like their chosen venue (the guys there make my skin crawl), but mostly because I felt so out of place with her other friends. They were all 10 or more years older than me, drunk, stoned and really clicky with each other.
I had offered to drive them to the pub, and I was hanging out until they decided to go. About 8 I was out there talking to them, when I ended up in a corner. Well, I say talking to them, but the reality is that I was standing there, while they talked. Several of them were smoking and waving said cigarettes around. I tried to tolerate it, but it was becoming more than uncomfortable to me. I ended up waving the cigarette smoke away. The guy got really defensive and I began to walk inside again. As I stepped through the threshold he yelled after me, 'Fucking non smokers. Really ruin a party.'
I muttered to myself 'May as well go home'. As soon as those words had left my mouth I knew that was the best option for me. I put my glass down, said good bye to the roomie and the hen. Walked to the door, put my shoes on, yelled goodbye to my friend, and walked.
I was feeling quite green around the gills by the time I got home. My stomach was rejecting the quality of food that I'd been eating. It wasn't until I got rid of the last cocktail frank (all four of them!) that my stomach began to settle.
And then I watched an episode of NCIS and went to bed. What a riveting night.
Monday, January 05, 2009
Men are FUCKED!
Jeez, what a happy new year I'm having. I am so over men. I have long been disgusted with men, seeing their seedy side quite regularly. But
On Saturday I met a tranny. She was lovely. But she made me sick to my stomach. Not because of what she was, but because she gets more straight guys than I do. She'd take them home, have a little play, get them hard, and off the skirt would come... to reveal Mr Bajinko. And most of the time, simply because they're hard, and she's a warm, willing, lubricated hole, they'll go for it.
Men are seriously fucked. I have enough trust issues as it is. How the hell am I supposed to get past this? I don't want to waste my time with a sleazy fucker. But how is that possible when they're all sleazy fuckers? Is there any point to even wanting one? Can I turn into a lesbian now?
I'm so over this shit.
On Saturday I met a tranny. She was lovely. But she made me sick to my stomach. Not because of what she was, but because she gets more straight guys than I do. She'd take them home, have a little play, get them hard, and off the skirt would come... to reveal Mr Bajinko. And most of the time, simply because they're hard, and she's a warm, willing, lubricated hole, they'll go for it.
Men are seriously fucked. I have enough trust issues as it is. How the hell am I supposed to get past this? I don't want to waste my time with a sleazy fucker. But how is that possible when they're all sleazy fuckers? Is there any point to even wanting one? Can I turn into a lesbian now?
I'm so over this shit.
Sunday, January 04, 2009
Happy Belated New Year
So the new year is upon us. Typically a time for reflection and aspirations. And I'm not going to be one to miss out on that.
Reflections
The year started on a low. An utter low. I hated my job and my depression was spiralling out of control because of it. My supervisor was a complete cunt. I cut myself off from my freinds and family. Sat at home and hated on myself. Yeah, I'd call it a low point.
And then I got a new job! A light at the end of the tunnel. Only the new job didn't start for 2 months. It was a very long tunnel. I got demoted the day before I got the offer. I was ready to go to HR when I got the call. I sort of wish I had. He's still being a cunt to the GalPal, only the sweetest, nicest girl in the world. But two months of hell, and I was free! Leaving that place was the best thing I'd ever done for myself.
The new job was great. It didn't have an auspicious start, what with throwing up repeatedly on the first day. Took a while to settle in and for my moods to regulate themselves. But I'm ok now.
Weight loss was a big thing for me. I gave up dancing and sex for it. I managed to shed 10kg. Some days that's good, some days its not good enough. I wanted to lose 15 kg. Today, 10 kg is good.
I met two bloggers. Both of whom I adore to peices. I aimed to meet a few others, but that never ended up happening.
I went to two concerts. Michael Buble and Matchbox 20. Loved them both, but not as cool as the Snow Patrol one.
Had dinner with my dad and siblings in September. It was damn expensive. The whole weekend cost me $500. I don't think I would have done that since maybe Christmas of 2001.
The year ended ok. I wanted to go to the city to watch the fireworks. But I pulled up injured and grumpy as fuck, so that idea went out the window. I vowed to stay home and be grumpy. Went out to watch the local fireworks. Then ended up at the pub with some of the girls from findafuck.
I had some rediculous allergic reaction, and HALF of my bottom lip swelled. It looked like I had the whole of Angelina's pout in half of my bottom lip. I'd spent half the night biting on my lip to keep it from spilling out and looking hideous. As I left the hothot bouncer started trying to tlak to me, but I was so self concious of my epically swollen lip, that I pretty much just ran past him. Damn.
The next day it was still swollen, and majorly bruised. Note to self: No chewing on numb lips. I can't feel if I'm damaging it.
Aspirtations
Clearly, I want to lose more weight. That's number one priority.
I want to have more sex.
I want to manage to fit in gym time, sex, dancing, friends and me time.
I want to be the best I can be at my job.
Did I mention I want more sex? That includes a threesome.
Reflections
The year started on a low. An utter low. I hated my job and my depression was spiralling out of control because of it. My supervisor was a complete cunt. I cut myself off from my freinds and family. Sat at home and hated on myself. Yeah, I'd call it a low point.
And then I got a new job! A light at the end of the tunnel. Only the new job didn't start for 2 months. It was a very long tunnel. I got demoted the day before I got the offer. I was ready to go to HR when I got the call. I sort of wish I had. He's still being a cunt to the GalPal, only the sweetest, nicest girl in the world. But two months of hell, and I was free! Leaving that place was the best thing I'd ever done for myself.
The new job was great. It didn't have an auspicious start, what with throwing up repeatedly on the first day. Took a while to settle in and for my moods to regulate themselves. But I'm ok now.
Weight loss was a big thing for me. I gave up dancing and sex for it. I managed to shed 10kg. Some days that's good, some days its not good enough. I wanted to lose 15 kg. Today, 10 kg is good.
I met two bloggers. Both of whom I adore to peices. I aimed to meet a few others, but that never ended up happening.
I went to two concerts. Michael Buble and Matchbox 20. Loved them both, but not as cool as the Snow Patrol one.
Had dinner with my dad and siblings in September. It was damn expensive. The whole weekend cost me $500. I don't think I would have done that since maybe Christmas of 2001.
The year ended ok. I wanted to go to the city to watch the fireworks. But I pulled up injured and grumpy as fuck, so that idea went out the window. I vowed to stay home and be grumpy. Went out to watch the local fireworks. Then ended up at the pub with some of the girls from findafuck.
I had some rediculous allergic reaction, and HALF of my bottom lip swelled. It looked like I had the whole of Angelina's pout in half of my bottom lip. I'd spent half the night biting on my lip to keep it from spilling out and looking hideous. As I left the hothot bouncer started trying to tlak to me, but I was so self concious of my epically swollen lip, that I pretty much just ran past him. Damn.
The next day it was still swollen, and majorly bruised. Note to self: No chewing on numb lips. I can't feel if I'm damaging it.
Aspirtations
Clearly, I want to lose more weight. That's number one priority.
I want to have more sex.
I want to manage to fit in gym time, sex, dancing, friends and me time.
I want to be the best I can be at my job.
Did I mention I want more sex? That includes a threesome.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)