The Menstrual Monster

So I've been down lately. 10 points and a choccie if you noticed it. Work has sucked arse lately. I think I've said that recently. I've been hammered for crap that seems insignificant lately. And when I make one decent mistake its all been blown out of proportion and been taken to the top. Past the supervisor, past the director, and to the directors boss. For one standard mistake. Neither of my superiors are privvy to the decision to take it that far.

On top of all that crap I was isolated because Mr BM doesn't like the forked tongue, and was playing the lower staff off against each other. I stayed head down and did my work, but eventually she came to the conculsion that I wasn't doing my share of the menial work. Even though it is at least a two person task, and four out of five days a week there were a choice of three of us (myself included) doing it. And went straight to the directors boss with that one too.

Last week I was working in another persons area. This person is one of the people who has contributed to the feeling of being isolated. And some of the oversights I have seen in there... JEEBUS. If I went through shit she'd be arse raped over it. So I fixed her ovesights, no problems.

But I spoke to the good supervisor too. He is aware of whats been going on. Its been really hard dealing with all of the double standards that this place has thrown at me. He was encouraging though. Everyone is aware of whats been going on, and everybody feels really bad about it. The girl that I went to him about with the problem is 'feeling protective' of me. Throughout this I was crying. Gorgeous has a gift of offering advice that seems especially poignant, no matter what is going on in my life, and expecially when I don't ask for it.

So the combination of the crying and the conversation is making me feel better.

Hope and Tears

Tears are like hope
slowly dripped on my pillow
They spread
dark, wet and well defined
And slowly they stop growing
and fade away
Soon there is no trace
no memory
of hope or of tears
only overwhelming numbness

Hope turns to tears.
it all fades eventually

I have learnt

not to remove my contacts straight after brushing my teeth.

Minty freshness might make teeth white, but it sure as hell makes eyes red!

Times I want to strangle my cats.

They are few and far between. But I have to say... cats and xmas trees do NOT mix. I've had the bastards climbing the tree, knocking of decorations and dragging or chasing them around for HOURS. They've thought it great fun. I have not.

All I had planned today was to go to work in the AM, come home, and wash my sheets. Maybe prep my vegies for tomorrow. No biggie. I'd done most of the cleaning yesterday arvo in between drinking and blogging. I get home, unwind, pop a pimple or two, the usual.

And then I find it. Something shiny and curved on my floor. I pick it up, turn it over and my heart quickly leaps to the back of my mouth, and just as fast plummets down past my stomach. Its a decorated and personalised tree ornament that a workmate gave my roomie. And it was gorgeous. Until the cats took it for a test drive.

I grab my bag and phone and hit the door. Still wearing the clothes I wore to work - jeans from three days ago, that have food spilt on them, a nice top but its got a darker stain on the stomch, and the bra that doesn't do anything. Yep. It was washing day.

Living so close to Westfield I can walk there. They have a little stand where they make these ornaments. But when I get there I can't find the stand. I ask the information desk. Apparently they ran out of baubles only yesterday and have packed up and moved on. But they do have another stall at Castle Hill. Its only one bus ride there.

I miss the bus by about 2 minutes. I missed the HOURLY bus by about 2 mintues. I have nothing better to do but wait for the next one. Halfway through the wait another bus pulls up. Final destination - Castle Hill Shops. But its going to take at least 50 minutes. Its still better than waiting. I'm not sure if it was the roughness of the bus ride or the freezing status of the air con that had my teeth rattling on the journey. And of course by this stage the pieces of the ornament have magically turned to shards. The damn thing is sooo fragile.

Get to the shops, and find myself an information desk. Holding the shards in my hand I babble some incoherant story at the lady on the other side of the desk. She doesn't wait for me to get my story out. Which is kinda a goosd idea, because it would've taken forever. She points me in the correct direction and gives me the most obvious landmark - its next to santa.

I find the stall with no problems. While waiting to be served one of the friends of the people working there spies my ever increasing number of small shiny pieces, and comments that it doesn't look to healthy. I show them the shards that were once my roomies gift. They immediately tell me (without me having to display the pattern), that they don't have any snowmen in stock, and definitely none in pink. But they tell me to look at the others and see if I can't find something suitable for her. I do. And I purchase a pink bauble with a beautiful angel, and get her name written on it. All this hassle for a stupid but adorable $11 ornament!

And I'm guilt tripping so bad by this stage, and I'm not sure if she'll like this one as much, that I buy her another. The next one is a blue ornament with a fishing snowman. You know, just in case she doesn't like the first one. And she still has a pink ornament, and an ornament with a snowman.

Breathe a huge sigh of relief. And happily go to catch the bus back. Only I don't know where the direct bus leaves from. Back to the information desk for directions. It seems easy enough to find.

Waiting at the traffic lights to cross the road, and it starts to rain. Big drops, but not alot of them. I shake my head. What else can go wrong? Then it starts rainging harder. I actually laugh. I like the rain. And right now I'm so stressed if I don't laugh I'm going to cry. The lights cahnge just as it begins to flood from above. It was pissing down so hard I actually sought shelter, Waiting for the rain to ease. I finally bolt across the road and locate the bus stop. To find I've missed the bus by mere minutes. I've missed the HOURLY bus by mere minutes. Again.

I decide to explore the mall nearby. I'm soaked to the skin. And I'm covered in what was once a dirty roadside puddle. There is a clothes shop in the mall. I decide to buy some clothes and wear them straight from the shop. But I can't find anything that fits, or looks good, or doesn't look slutty. So I go without, and drag my tired, wet butt back to the bus stop. Where I caught a bus that had the air con set to about 11 C. Freaking bloody cold bus ride, even if I wasn't wet.

And thats the story of yesterday. My housemate and I both think its funny. And i decide not to put the new ornaments on the tree.

Merry Christmas? I say GET FUCKED

I truly hate Xmas. Anybody who read my blog last year will remember something similar being posted.

I have spent the last three Xmases by myself. I find it quite liberating. For the following reasons

• I get to do what I want, when I want. No pressure to serve lunch at a certain time, no need to prep or serve something that no-one wants, or everybody wants. No food gets wasted.
• I don't have to drive anywhere. My sister is doing breakfast with one parent, lunch with mums ex boyfirends family, and dinner with the other parental.
• I can drink as much or as little as I want. I'm not restricted by the 'need' to drive from place to place. If a dunk makes a fool of herself, and no-one is there to see, does it happen?
• No people = no fighting
• I get to open my presents when I want to. How fun is faking you love a truly awful gift in front of an expectant relative? If I get something truly awful, I just don't have to answer the phone later.

However, the lead up to Xmas is a completely different story. Absolutely everybody who finds out how I spend my day pities me. And it shows. 'Oh poor phishez, she's got no-one to spend Xmas with.' I have a particularly strong disdain for being pitied. And then I have to justify the way I spend my day. Like I could spend it any other way.

This year has been no different. Everybody being all clicky and wanting to be around other people. I try to avoid crowds where possible at the best of times. But at Xmas... its all so fake. People who normally fight like stray tomcats are suddenly best of buddies. I particularly come across as being cold then. Because I am. I want people to like me for me. Not because some guy how many hundreds of years ago decided to take some pagan festival and celebrate the birth of some undead guy however many of hundereds of years before that. I hate going shopping. I hate carols, and crowds, and the fat man. Seriously, why the fuck do we put a mythical fat man on a symbol of life? Expecially when this man has sold his soul to the corporation?

So I get stand-offish. And I get lonely. I can't talk to people because I have trust issues. Even if they've been my best bud through the year, as soon as xmas comes around, I don't know if they're liking me for me, or if they're liking me for the season.

And right now I'm angry beyond words because my family sucks. They SUCK. Come xmas morning, day, night and until next Wednesday at the very (VERY) earliest, I will have nothing from them. Yep. Thats right. The only people show give enough of a fuck about me to show it are my housemate and one workmate who's part of the reason I'm leaving.

I know its the thought that counts, but when you're by yourself on a day like that the physical lack of a thought is like a knife to the ribs.

An excerpt from my phone

To: Kez

If I had to blog right now it would go something like this...

'He came in today. We worked, we flirted, and we ate cheesecake. I'm a wuss. I didn't ask him out.














But I did give him my number'


HUZZAH!

Today

Do you know that sinking feeling you get when you wonder if you forgot to put deoderant on this morning?





I do.





It was quickly followed up by an amazing shrug feeling as I realised I hadn't, and I couldn't do a damn thing about it.

The promise of youth

When I was in high school I had so much promise. I was going places. I was going to be famous, and make tons of cash, and help people, but work with animals at the same time. They weren't idle dreams. Everybody knew and recognised it. I stood out from the crowd. And because it was recognised it became a burning ambition. I was full of the promise of youth. I was its embodiment.

So I went to university. I was the one that everyone would love to hate. I rarely went to class and still got top marks. The only time I was ever really really into a subject I topped the class. #1. Thats what happened when I tried. And when I didn't I was still in the top 15%. And the people there saw the same. When I got a job, I was talking to the cleaner and she said 'We'll be seeing your name in lights before long'. But somehow that all got lost.

Unfortunately my degree was offered to get people to study. To take their money and teach them. I hold a science degree. And applied science degree. Its the 'arts' of science. Just after I graduated I was unemployable. I was 'overqualified' to do what I wanted. Hence to do what I wanted I had to get out into the workforce. I just needed a foot in the door job. And thats what I got. A foot in the door, dead end job. There is no money working with animals. You do it for the love of it. I've always known it.

I heard the other day that if you haven't studied in five years all you've learnt is useless. I've wasted all the potential that I ever had. I'll never get to taste fulfilled promise.

I really don't get some things. The way life turns out. How it is affected by people who know nothing but numbers. My entire lifes path is completely strewn from what I wanted, just to fill numbers in a useless course. And to get what I want, I have to go back to when I was 18. Give up my degree. Give up all the experience I've so painfully earnt. It doesn't mean anything. But still keep the debts. Keep the memories. They don't mean anything either way.

Its only 5 years. Guess that doesn't mean much either.

"This girl tries her best everyday,
But it's all gone to waste
'cause there's no one around,
This girl she can draw she can paint,
Likes to dance she can skate,
Now she don't make a sound"

What does one do with mancandy?

So the guy at work is an UBER hottie! We were working together today. And as usual conversation is very limited to work. NOT. Public transport, Christmas plans and new years etc. I did quiz him though, to find out if he had 'anything better' to be doing, rather than spending it with his family. And he said no. Nothing better to do. Which I interpret to be 'no girlfriend I'd rather be spending the day with'.

I have next Monday off. I was going to make cheesecake to bring in as a Christmas gift to everybody on Tuesday. However, now methinks I shall bring it in on Wednesday instead. Certain hot occasional-workmates will be down just before morning tea on Wednesday. And it gives me a reason to invite him to join us for it. It also gives me a reason to show off my cooking skills (this cheescake is DIVINE) and thus garner a compliment. It also gives me a longer time to flirt with the guy, over a very non-work discussion.

And maybe, just maybe, ask him out.

I'm a wuss though.

A and her identity

Recently one of my workmates (A) had her wallet stolen. She was shopping at Ikea and stopped to get lunch. Putting her tray down at the table, next to her two young children she noticed she had no cutlery. She turned her back for literally one and a half minutes to get it.

It wasn't until they left the dining area that she realised she didn't have her wallet. Immediately she cancelled all of her cards. But it was too late. They had used her credit card to buy $75 worth of petrol. When she quizzed the guy at the service station he defended himself with 'We can't check every signature'. Which is total bullcrap. It takes two seconds to check a signature. Another workmate has a husband that manages a servo. And he has confimred it. All signatures MUST be checked. I know that from working in the vet clinic. The servo is liable for that transaction on her card. But it's going to be a bitch getting it back.

Not content to take the $400 in her wallet and the free use of the credit card, the fuckers have also taken her woolworths ezi bank card (which is a division of, but not worked through, the commonwealth bank), to the commonwealth bank an Enmore THREE times. TWICE they overdrew past the daily limit on the card. On the CANCELLED card. A has taken that same card to the commonwealth bank previously and they refused to deal with her.

The bank were going to run her around with getting her money back too. She got onto one of the major radio stations (2GB) in Australia and told them her story. It was to be their last show before their summer break. And they were going to put her on air at 10:30 in the morning. Unfortunately they ran out of time. But they really felt for her. So they did the ring around for her. And about 20 minutes after she was told she wouldn't be on air, she got a call from the bank. They will refund her money in full. It will be in her account immediately. And the radio station called her back to make sure the bank had done what they said they would.

Not only that, but they have tried to open new accounts in her name. And have tried to redirect her mail. Now A is absolutely paranoid. They have enough identification to be able to apply for credit cards, or loans. They have her library cards, and video rental cards. And photos of her kids. They know where she lives. Who knows how far it will go.

The police have been no help. They have continued to tell her to report anything new to them. But it has been up to her to chase the video surveilance from Ikea and the service station. The bank has none. And as of Friday afternoon, they had not been viewed. This leads us to believe that they might be investigating these guys already on a larger scale. Or, more likely, that she has fallen through the cracks of apathy.

I told her about my recent experiences with the police. How he should have been charged with assault, but they only decided that over a week later. After he had a copy of the AVO in his hands and knew what they would bring up against him. So he changed his story and denied the rest.

Life sucks sometimes. People are so cruel to others. What would posess someone to rummage through someone elses bag while her two young children were sitting there? And fine, they took the money, but to take her identity too... They can do so much damage to her and not even care.

Sick Sheets

We had a party last night. It was fucking awesome. I still have to clean up :(. There is crap everywhere. And soo much food. Seems we pulled a jebus here. We started with three bags of chips, 2 packs of share chocolate, 7 bottles of mixer drinks, two packets of lollies, dip, cheese and cabanossi. Now we have 15 bags and three bowls of chips, 6 bags of lollies, about 5 packs worth of share chocolates, and 16 bottles of drink, 9 assorted premixed drinks, 2 packets of timtams, 18 bread rolls, and a roast chook. And two bowls of cheese. One of which is still sitting outside on the balcony.

We wont need to cater the next party. Except for the chocolates. I’ll make sure nobody gets food poisoning and take them out of the equation. Purely selfless I swear.

It was a good night all up. Except for one very awkward moment where some random guy my housemate invited went to help himself to my alcohol. I thought I handled it very well. I told him politely but firmly that we hadn’t provided alcohol for everybody, but if he wanted something to drink there was plenty of non alcoholic beverages in the back fridge. He just looked at me, still holding the bottle. He made NO attempt to even put it down. Fucker even questioned me about it. I repeated previous statement. If it had been a beer or something I probably wouldn’t have bothered. But FFS, we had catered this party, with dip. THERE WAS DIP PEOPLES. Letting some random I’d never met help himself to my southern comfort was just a bit much.

One of the highlights was sitting out on my hammock chatting with my new gay best friend (Don’t worry Kez, there’s room for at least two of you in my heart). He’s a bit shy about anal. So, being the drunken pervert that I am, I gave him tips, and even offered to buy him a vibrator online to make it easier for him. Share the depravity. I should get that tattooed on my butt.

Are any of my readers familiar with the concept of ‘sick sheets’? I know Jana is. We get this from my mother. When I’ve been sick, and I’m starting to recover, my sheets feel wrong and dirty to me. It doesn’t matter if I’ve washed them that day, and gotten really sick that night. I HAVE to have clean sheets on my bed when I’m starting to get better. If I’m sick for three days, I’ll wait til recovery to wash them. Last night I was really bad. I had had a lot to drink, but I’ve had more in the past, and not been that bad. I’m starting to wonder if someone put something in my drink. I crashed about 2 or 3. And spent an hour in bed shivering. I had two blankets on, and I was hot, but I was still shivering enough for it to be painful. And I got up at 4 to make an unexpected stagger to the toilet. I grabbed me a bucket on the way back to bed. I have never felt so old in my life. I ached all over. Every inch of skin, my bones and muscles. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to blink. I’m not exaggerating. If it feels like this when I get old, I don’t want to get old. I think Peter Pan was onto something. I was quite with it in my brain, but my body felt so battered. Of course since it was a house party, I had left my drink unattended all night.

The only reason I’m moving now is because I took two codeine at 8 or 9 this morning.

So now, on top of cleaning the house, I have to wash my sheets. As a bonus though – is there anything a sexy as doing your shaving/waxing just before you get into a bed with clean sheets, and sleeping nekkid? Its just a shame that my pyjamas need to be washed this arvo too ;P

Coming up – a firsthand case of identity theft, and my impulse buys.

Apathy

Apathy is a void
Mucis cannot fill
And love mocks me
And pushes me further away.
Its too far to reach out.
I am unreachable
In the black void of apathy.

Workism

Work has sucked something shocking lately. We have been without a leader for a whole year, next Saturday. And its showing in our group. Not normally the most cohesive bunch, but our previous supervisor (we have two, they swap areas each December) has been playing us against each other. Not sure why, but everybody is kind of at everybody elses throats. Which is why I'm leaving.

But the shit has really hit the fan. My current supervisor, the one who actually gives a damn, has just made the swap back to my area. And he doesn't want to pick up the mess and unravel the tensions there. I can't really say I blame him.

As a result, he's decided to 'step down'. We're both a bit excited. He was concerned that he would not have a job to step into. But seeing as I'm looking to move on its eased up a bit for him.

I wish him the best of luck. And regret the circumstances that led to this decision. Ultimately it is the best thing for him. And that is what matters.

Rachel

This is not an easy blog for me to write. I'm not really sure where to start on this.

It has occured to me, very recently, that one of my friends is extremely selfish. And I'm not at all comfortable with it. I'm actually feeling a little sour about it**. And need to get it out of my head so that it doesn't destroy my brain. I'm not even sure if I can get it out the way I want to.

I've known Rachel for about three years now. We had a mutual semi-close friend at uni. We met during her first and my second year. We were the same age. And we knew each other reasonably well. During the early part of my third year there were a handful of students left over one of the holiday breaks. And that was when we really got to know each other. One night we sat up talking til about 3 or 4 in the morning, about life, getting to know each other. And since then she was my escape when my hall got to be too much.

When I graduated I'd run favours for her off campus. I'd help her look after her contraband kitty, keeping it overnight and running it to the vets when need be. It worked out well because she was quite a compatible playmate for my cat.

Just after I moved to Sydney she was coming down for work experience. And she drove my car down with my cat, rat and computer. She didn't stay at my place (whole 'nother story), so the month where she was here I got to see her once. Then that October contraband kitty became mine. And was flown back down to Sydney with me.

This year she came down and stayed a few days in July. And I filled her in on what had happened just prior to her coming down.

And she came down again just last week. We'd been planning it for a while. But she told me a week before when she was coming. So I had a week, when we were understaffed, and others were already away, to try to get time off. My supervisor was great about it, but only managed to get me two days off, plus a weekend I wasn't working and an ADO. 5 days in total. I wanted 5 of leave. But I wasn't complaining. Honestly I was surprised I got any time off, considering the notice I gave them.

Picked Rach up at the airport on the Thursday night (I seriously hate airport traffic). And she came back to my place. Where she stayed for 6 nights, and paid $50 for food (and petrol, for three return trips to the city and two to the airport). It occured to me later that she probably wouldn't have even thought about that if I hadn't asked.

And from then on, Rach did what she wanted, and if I was there then I was there. We were in the city Friday, with my bestie from high school. And she was really, really narky because Ali was giving the wrong landmarks for where her hotel was. And it got to me that she thought Ali was some kind of idiot. A lower form of idiot. A complete imbecile. And I think it went bad from there. I haven't seen Ali in ages. We were absolutely inseperable in high school. And Ali is absolutely not an idiot. At 23 she has been through uni, and owns her own business. So Rach's attitude absolutely grated my nerves. We went to the markets, and Rach kept wandering off to this stall, and that stall, and Ali and I wandered along together, chatting and examining stuff.

And occasionally Rach would meet up with us, before disappearing again.

The next day we went shopping at Parramatta. I wanted to pick up a layby and some vegies. Rach wandered into this store, and that store, and I bought some tops somewhere else. When I came out Rach was in a different store, and then she decided she was going somewhere else. Since the store I wanted to go to was at the other end of Westfield, it was going to take ages and I told her I was going to pick up my layby, and I'd meet her at Supre (where she was) or 1626 (where I was going). Come out and wander back to Supre, keeping an eye out for Rach. She's not on the way there, and not in the store. Wander back. No Rach. Back to Supre, and back to 1626. Still no Rach. Spend half an hour at the calendar stall outside my store. She doesn't show. So I wander back, looking in EVERY store on the way. And back to 1626, doing the same thing on the other side. At this point I'm shitty for sure. So I decide to do my vegie shopping and just go home. I don't have my phone on me so I'll call her when I get home.

On my way out of the shopping centre she's waiting and apparently has been doing the same as me for the last hour or so. We walk back to the apartment, laughing about it, but its tense between us. That night, Robyn (who has been drinking) picked up on it. I bought it up on the drunken stumble home, and mentioned how irritating it was. Surprisingly that partially diffused the situation. But not enough.

Sunday we spent together. It was fun. Nice and relaxed. But not quite at the same time. Rach had jarred me somehow. And it wasn't going away. There was a cute guy that we had to deal with at the apple store. Sorry, that *she* had to deal with. And even though Rach was leaving the counrty in two and a bit weeks, she was still competing for this guy. I'm an adult. I know that anything with this guy... not going to happen. But its less llikely for her. And still she competed. Now, in the past, I would have never stood a chance against someone like Rach. But I have lost alot of weight recently. And my curves, though sizeable, are damn HAWT in the right clothes. And I was wearing the right clothes. I believe, if I had chosen, he would have been eating out of my hand, and not stopping there.

We were discussing him later (yes, he was that hot). And she totally dismissed me as competition. With most of my girlfriends its the same. The guys go for them first, and then, when it comes to converstation, they go for me. In real life I am like I blog. But fat. And the guys still love it. Rach and I have a very similar personalities. But she is more showy and superficial than I. And it shows, through her actions, and her jewellery, and her conversation. Yes, in that order.

Naturally it bugged me that she hadn't realised I've changed. I hate it, but I have. i'm used to being underestimated. I encourage it in certain circumstances. But not in my friends. Life is just not as sweet as it was when I first knew her. She knows what I've been through.

After dinner that night I told her how I'd been dwelling on stuff. Negative stuff. Occasionally the assault by my ex housemate in June. But mostly, at the moment, the miscarrage. And how I have no one to talk to about it. Even now it hurts too much to cry. She knows about all of this stuff. Being one of my closest friends she would have to. But she had been at my place for 4 days, together for most of this time. And she had yet to ask me how my life was going. I knew about all of her stressors. Grades, and graduation, and getting a job, and what she was going to get her sister for Christmas. It was all we'd talked about.

But for me to talk about what I wanted, what was getting to me, I had to bring it up. In a public place. Down at Darling harbour, after dinner, over coffee. And I nearly burst into tears. I hate crying. And crying in public... I haven't done since year eight when I told one of my mates I was sexually abused by my cousin and she turned around and told the year levels biggest gossip. (Thats a whole nother story again, but my mum found out from the mother of someone in my year level). Needless to say I'm not doing too good, and I have no one to talk to about it. And it took four days for it to be bought up in conversation with (but not by) someone who knows me reasonably well.

I bought her a chirstmas present. It was a cheap pen and keyring set. And I got it engraved.
"Dear Rach
Remeber Us
Love Steph
UQG 2003-2006"

And she gave me a hug. She hadn't got me anything. I can live with that. It would have been nice to have the thought there but...

Anyway. She forgot it. And its still sitting here. She flies out in a week and I can't afford to post it until Thursday. The engraving cost me over $25. The only thing she can offer - post it to someone who's flying over in January.

And its then that it occurs to me. Rachel is so self centred. Beyond confident. I'm confident. But I don't go that far. She wants everything to be about her. She didn't give a damn that something was eating me from the inside out. Anybody who knows me, and gives a damn, would have been able to spot that a mile away. She didn't think to get me anything for Christmas. Honestly, it doesn't bug me that much, except I put alot of thought into that gift. And its like it doesn't matter to her. There was no show that it meant anything to her. I can't help but feel like I've wasted my time cultivating a friendship that was all one sided. I have a very giving nature and she exploited that. In the beginning it was a mutual firendsip. I'm not sure where it went astray. But its not a good feeling.

** Earlier I blogged about not being comfortable blogging about my family. This is a prime example of why I feel this way. Though this is not aimed at my family, the principle is the same. Its nothing major. But it is. Its at times like this I'm using my blog as a journal, not as a communication medium.

What december means to me

Its December. And that means one thing to me.

Neopets.

Yes peoples. For one month of the year I am a dedicated neopian. You just need to give me free shit for me to get there.

Now, before anybody says anything, I was into neopets when it was just a few months old. WAAAY before it hit cult status. And I LOVED it. Yep. I admit it. And I managed to get all of my high school mates addicted to it. Before school blocked the website because it was 'uneducational'. Yeah right. All that left for me to do during my 'study breaks' was have cybersex. Hello!! Catholic here! Like I needed any more 'education' on that! But thats a whole 'nother story...

And it was the same at uni. Got all of my mates addicted. We'd head up to the library every other night and play games and surf. A group of about 8 of us. Laughing and carrying on and trading shit. HEAPS of fun. But they blocked that too.

We were right into it. Making money by gambling, buying stuff cheap and selling it for a nice profit. We knew when the shops would restock and wait for it. We knew which plushies in which colour were the most valuable. And we walked the fine line between haggling the price down and getting what we want, or having someone just buy it out from under us.

There were different pets, different shapes and sizes. And believe it or not, different personalities. We'd make homes for them (and never decorate the bastards), buy them petpets, give them makeovers, and play with them. We'd teach them and train them. Just because we could. And we'd collect items to display in our shops. Just because we could.

One of the reasons we all played (or so we said) was that we weren't allowed to keep pets whilst living on campus. So these were a substitute.

We were aged between 18 and 20.

Nowdays I don't do any of that. I don't have the time. And I have real pets. But come December, its all changed. I have a years worth of new pets to get to know, new styles to paint my babies. And new petpets (and now I think there are petpetpets too, but I find them all too confusing). And I hit the games hard to enhance my 1 million neopoints. I collect interest and sell shit that has increased in value over the year. Its just like old times.

Mis-ter Stab-by, do do do-do do doooo

Its tragic news peoples. Just horrible. Its been a year of utter and incomprehensible loss, and I want to go back to when Australia was just that little bit sweeter. Of course, I am talking about the loss of the Yellow Wiggle.

First Steve, then Brockie, and Belinda Emmet. And now the Wiggles. Will it never end? Is there any social group that won't be affected by out losses. Jebus has even chosen to spite the children! Though in a slightly more sedate, not dead way.

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Sent off my first job application today. I'm so excited but a little bit scared. I rushed my application letter and it shows. But there are other jobs I can go for. I'm not linking anything. Cuz I don't want any other bastards applying.

At afternoon tea (the 15 minutes when we're all finished and too absolutely stuffed to do anymore work anyfuckingways) I was talking to my supervisor about my job prospects, where I want to go and so on. I didn't want to tell him I was applying for other jobs but I'm glad I did. It needs to be in the open and he understands why I'm going.

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This popped into my head today and I'm going to keep it as a fast insult in future. Sensitive faces look away.

"Syphilitic persons cumrag".

Its genius if I do say so myself. Picture it.

'I'd rather eat/play with...

'You smell/look like like a...

'You're about as much fun as...

'Add other inventive phrase here...

Viva le Jobhunt

Yep. Its time.

Blogfodder

Have any other bloggers experienced this phenomenon? Where you are in a situation that is maximum frustration, irritation or ‘must not choke someone’, and all you can think is ‘Blogfodder’? This is one such experience.

a.k.a ‘How to have a cheap night out’

The CHEAPEST. Let me start at the beginning. Because, as Julie Andrews sings, it’s a damn good place to start. We had big plans for last night. We were going out to dinner again. Pancakes. Such a healthy dinner. Then go home, get ready and go. We were going to a Latino bar. I’ve never been but I luurve me the dancing. So we decided it was about time. And since Rach was down, we’d take her out and show her a unique experience. Unique being the correct word.

While Rach was in the shower doing the whole shaving thing, I decided to call my sister. And the course of our conversation started at Christmas presents, and what I wanted. It was pointless asking what anybody else wanted cuz I’ve already done my shopping. I want vouchers. Let me buy my own stuff thanks. For clothes, or sex toys. Either way I’m one very satisfied chickie. Then it went on to what she’d bought the parentals. Turns out she’d bought him a magic bullet. It’s a blender thingy, but seeing as we’d just been discussing ‘toys’ my mind screamed blue bloody murder. She bought him a WHAT?!?

Then it went to parentals and sex toys. Natural progression I swear. I’ll leave it up to Jana to blog that one. And the conversation ceased. Time for me to get ready.

I jump out of the shower and get ready. Dress, shoes, makeup, hair curled. And drinking. Takes long enough but I’m finally ready to go. We wander out the door and head to the train station. On the wander my housemate and I… well the crazy was definitely showing. I told her about the conversation with my sister. And then in the next breath, started singing nursery rhymes. The poor guy behind us couldn’t cross the road fast enough.

No trains running from Parramatta. That’s fine. We can live with that. We catch the free bus to Granville and await the train there. We wait. And we wait. And we wait some more. One of my workmates wanders by, and she sits down and we start chatting.

And still we wait.

Finally there comes an announcement. All trains are delayed. Indefinitely. Uh, ok. It’s not so bad for us. My workmate lives in the city and now has no way to get home. Except by Taxi. BIG $$$. Poor girl. She just wanted to have dinner with another workmate and go home.

Its now 11.30 on a Saturday night and we’re stuck at Granville. We opt to share a taxi into the city. Will cost us all of about $12, maybe $15 each. But there are five of us. And we’d need a maxi taxi. We call the taxi company to order one. The server is busy. We try the other taxi company. Same deal. Maxi taxi pulls up at the taxi stand. ACROSS THE ROAD. We run but it’s gone. So we wait. And we call the company. And we discover Rach’s phone, which was clipped to the top of her dress, is missing.

We spot it at the same time as some random guy picks it up. Oh No He Didn’t. Drunk Phishy calmly walks up to him and informs him that its not his phone, it belongs to my friend. He’s a little thrown. I’m obviously tipsy, and he’s just scored a free phone, but I’m not going to leave without it. He hands it over and I give him big grin and thank him, complete with verbal barbie head flip.

It’s now past midnight. My workmate can’t hang around forever waiting for a taxi that might not show. And our club closes at 2. It’ll be 1 by the time we get into the city. So we decide to go our separate ways. We catch a bus back to Parramatta and they catch their taxi.

On the bus trip back we are sitting on three consecutive seats, a double each, in an empty bus. A bunch of people get on, straight from the footy. Oblivious to the completely empty bus surrounding us, one of them breaches public transport etiquette and picks the seat next to Robyn. This guy resembled a drunken jack-o-lantern, complete with full sized Aussie flag. And proceeded to chat her up. She was standing to get off the bus about 3 minutes before it approached the station.

And we walked home, watched movies and ate chips. Dressed to the nines. Looking absolutely stunning. All sitting on my bed. An eventful Saturday night.

The only reason I didn’t cry (apart from the fact I was completely wasted) was the thought that I could blog it.

Blogfodder.

Yesterday...

Oh how I heart time away from work. If i didn't need the money so damn badly I'd have packed it all in by now.

My friend Rach, from uni, is visiting. So I have three days (plus a weekend) away from work. Bliss. Spent yesterday exploring Paddys Market in the city. And got bored by about the second row. Having seen everything by that stage, and was facing the prospect of about 60 more rows of the same clothes, irritating noisy flashing toys, wigs, jewellery, souveniers and bags. Oh, and occasionally there were socks too. If it had a bit of variety it would have been heaven, but... *le sigh*.

I also got to spend the day cathing up with my best friend from high school. Which was awesome. I don't keep in touch with many of them, so any chance to spend decent time with someone that I do... If I didn't already have the time off I'd've taken another Aussie sicke.

So the three of us explored the market, then took a ferry ride, and went back to her hotel and sat around and gossiped with her family. Then we went to dinner at pancakes on the rocks. I heart that place! And there were markets by moonlight there too! Very different to Paddys. The people, the wares for sale, the atmosphere. Must go there again.

Had myself a latin dance class social that night too. So went home, got changed, put on a bare minimum of makeup, and out the door again. Danced my butt away until about midnight. Went home, got changed again and went out clubbing. Dragging my tired arse and weary feet home at three. Then had to wait while the other two showered before I could have my turn. So my head hit the pillow about four.

A very full day in all.

How not to meet your neighbours.

I'm having a shite day. My subconcious has hit self destruct. Please ginore any spelling mistakes. Too much alcohol plus I gont give a dman anymore. moving on...

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The other night my housemate and I were being complete nigels and staying at home on a friday (or Saturday) night. Shut up. It was like, two weeks ago. Who's supposed to remember that far back?

Anyhoo. My roomie comes into my room and tells me there are guys swimming in the pool belonging to the apartment block just over from us. We sit at my window for a bit and watch. Need I say neither of us is getting any? There seem to be five or six guys, young and energetic.

We move out to the balcony and watch for a bit more. Then we come to the conclusion that we're never going to actually meet these guys, and decide to 'interact' a bit more with them. And by that I mean yell shit at them.

Starts off with the very common and rarely misconstrued 'Hi'. Then moves rapidly on to shit like

• Are you having a party
• you're hot
• Are you gay
• Go you big red fire engine
• I like peanut butter

Courage is knowing there will be no consequences.

The next day they are swimming in the pool again. But its daylight. We stand in the kitchen and marvel how much the dark can make these ugly, hairy guys look hot. We decided to avoid the balcony for the day.

You know, just in case they looked up and saw us.

The aftermath

My jaw is swollen beyond regonition. Take a look at my profile pic. My normall round-to-heart-shaped face is normal above the cheekbones. But below... I have a jaw that rivals Paris Hiltons. One side is worse than the other. Obviously. The swelling is actually really low down. So where Paris' jaw goes out in lumpy bits, one side of mine goes down!

I'm bruised on one side of my mouth. And under my tongue. I still can't really talk. I don't even talk to myself anymore. Now nobody talks to me :(

Still having difficulty eating. Had to turn my planned chicken fillet last night into chicken nuggets, just to fit it in my mouth. I had Hungry Jacks for dinner that night. Hadn't eaten since morno tea time and needed something to dilute the blood I'd swallowed. Hungry Jacks was the softest fast food I could think of. So having to squish my burger into a pancake, taking tiny tiny bites out of one side of my mouth, and fastidiously chewing on one side... it took me half an hour just to eat my damn burger!

Oh. Big news coming up. Stay tuned folks.

numb is good

So I went to the dentist today. Rang up this morning and got slotted in this afternoon. Very lucky, I suppose.

Got in there. Sat in the dreaded chair and had the blinding hot light flashed straight into my eyes. Ahhh. Some things never change. The guy hasn't even poked my mouth and I'm terrified. I tell him what the probelm was and he glances at the tooth. Immediately he orders it to be x rayed. He's not even going to examine it. No need to tap or scratch it with the sharp pointy thing.

While the x ray is being developed he comes back and gives me a shot of local.

The x ray reveals that the tooth is absolutely stuffed. From the outside it appears to be fine. One black dot and a teensy bit of lightening on the top. To keep it would cost $1500 minimum. I'm not in a health fund. So the only option is to take it the fuck out. Its at this stage that I was glad I'd nicked into the bathroom and done business in there, cuz I'd be pissing myself by now otherwise.

He asks how numb my mouth is. I tell him its comfortably numb, but I wouldn't object to a bit more local. He obliges. It seems theres a bit of trepidation in regards to pulling my teeth. You see, I have an excellent bone structure. Nice thick, well developed bones. Including my jaw. And the roots of my teeth - lovely and thick. Those babies are never falling out. Not even with help.

He loosens it. I'm loving that local by now. Grabs it with the pliers. And the tooth shatters. Here I am trying to breathe and tooth chips come flying around my mouth. Then comes the drill. Not sure what that was for. Not game to ask. I stare off over his shoulder, whishing I was somewhere else, and thinking that there are better things to be doing with my mouth stretched wide open for so long.

With a crunching sound I feel it come out. Huzzah! But I celebrate too soon. Its only half, and the other one is just as stubborn as the first.

Two stitches and $150 later I'm back on the street. Wondering if he wiped all of the blood off my face, and if I'm going to be making small children cry just by smiling at them.

I am thoroughly sick of having a numb face. I'm sick of drooling red crap every time I change the gauze in my mouth. I bleed too. The bleeding was supposed to stop after an hour and a half. Its been two hours. Its definitely slowed. But no where near stopped.

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This led me to think. While I've been down in Sydney I've been conciously assessing guys by thier genetics. I put this down to the fact that the future husband can't have kids. He has told me that whoever he marries will have to get pregnant to someone else for him to have a family. I know I have poorly designed teeth. They are prone to all kinds of dental badness. While I've been looking for guys to compliment my own genes, I do want to improve the teeth for my future generations.

Did I say I was sick of having a numb face? The anaesthetic is starting to wear off. I want the numb back.

Its, Its, Its BANALITY

I went into the city to do a favour for a mate. Waiting to be served at the apple store and this guy was talking about his mac book pro. Every sentence it was 'my mac book pro...' It was like he was name dropping it. And it was just as irritating!

****************************************************
I have a phobia of the dentist. Apparently its time to face my fears. Hope he's young and cute. They're a hell of alot easier to face then.

****************************************************
I was talking to a mate of mine from Victoria the other night. She's recently had laproscopic surgery and is in quite a bit of pain. Its recently been her boyfriends birthday and I suggested that seeing as she couldn't give him special cuddles she might give him special kisses. That was out of the question because she gets all jonesed up. I said it that was good because he can give her special kisses in return. And she told me (and I quote) "I can't do that because I've got a hole down there too." Uh, Ange, sweets. I thought that was kinda the point. Turns out they entered from there with the surgery too.

***************************************************
I saw one of my dancing boys at work the other day. It was really quite funny, because we were talking for about 20 seconds, and all of a sudden the penny dropped that I didn't know him from work.

**************************************************
I can cook. No secret. Especially if you read my blog. Which you're doing now. So you should know that. The last two weeks I can count on one hand the number of times I've eaten at home. But thinking about dinner tonight was trying to pick what to eat at a favourite restaurant. Should I have the bolognase, or mango chicken, or mean nachos (I call them mean because you'd smack your mother in the face if she got between you and them), or a parmy, or a laksa... The list goes on. Take out doesn't seem to measure up when you're looking at a menu like that.

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It can be quite a shit when your family reads your blog.

Jana, I love you to bits, but you will know what its like soon enough, so don't take offense.

There are times when I want to rant and rave about my family. With my family theres a hell of alot to complain about. But when I want to get stuff off my chest most I hold back. Because once I've ranted, I feel better and I normally don't feel like discussing it later on. And when I do talk to her, I know she will want to discuss it.

There are times when I simply don't feel like discussing with ANY family. But am more than happy to tell people who aren't on the inside all the gory details.

I use my blog as a medium to get stuff off my chest. And when its gone I don't want it back.

Hello

My internet connection has been a little exey of late. I think I dropped my wireless receiver thingy too many times. Oops! So will be back to regular blogging (including reading and commenting) soon. This was written over a couple of days, so may be a tad disjointed.

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The post I promised for the other day - still on its way. Its art in words. Though I do have perfectionist tendancies, so I have to finish it, proof read, and make sure that I put everything in it that I wanted. Will be around next week sometime.

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Recently there has been quite a lot of roadworks done near my work. This includes adding a few extra lanes near a roundabout. Making the roundabout, that was never really round, a circle. But because it is a kind of elongated intersection anyways, the new roundabout is not located in the centre, where it should be!

Coming in to work one morning this week, and the guy on the left, who is supposed to give way to me, is already sitting there, waiting. Since you don’t have time to get around the intersection once the person on your right (in this case, me) enters, I assumed he used it regularly, and was being polite. Then I get halfway around the roundabout and nearly collide, head on, with someone COMING THE WRONG WAY AROUND THE ROUNDBOUT! She just looked at me, looked around, and went on her merry way.

I was so stunned I couldn’t even beep her. I don’t think I could have reacted any more if I saw a giraffe just wandering across the road.

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I got told today that I think too much. Its true. And it is a curse. I truly hate it.

I have never slept well. Since I was about 16 I've woken up at about 3.30 in the morning. Most nights its at least twice, but recently it has escalated to about three times. Proper woken state. I could watch TV, blog, read a book, I am that with it. And I usually lasts for half an hour to an hour. Sometimes more. But I just want to go back to sleep. So I don't do any of that.

And I end up thinking. Sometimes its no biggie. Sometimes my mind will just jump to the events of a few months back. Theres nothing to distract me, and its always at the back of my mind. So it surfaces from the dark, oily depths of my subconcious. Or I'll have a really sickening, disturbing dream. And I wont want to go back to sleep at all. So I actively try to stay awake.

I can't remember the last time I slept through the night. I have taken sleeping pills and I still wake up and think. And I think like that during the day too.

I hate the SR right now because he was the one to tell me that. We're friends now. Thats it. It was a mutual decision. No biggie. He sent me an ambiguous text and I had to ring him to get it clarified. But it was just stated as a fact, as a part of the conversation to try to get me to not worry about it. But I've been overthinking it and its absolutely beating me up today. And I still haven't figured out why.

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I went to dancing last night, leaving a stack of songs on my download list. My net connection has been pretty exy lately, so I had two songs completed. When I got back about 3 hours later - about 30 songs completed! Whoa!!!

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Two songs I'm absolutely loving right now - Through Glass by Stone Sour, and Lips of an Angel by Hinder. Loved them to bits from the first time I heard them.

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Question: Is it ok to give someone a hand me down gift?

The item in particluar is something I have recently upgraded, and I know of someone else who desperately wants one, but don't need it urgently enough to go and get it themself. The original value of this item is worth more than my entire christmas budget for my family.

Self tanning

I'm out of ideas right now. Nothing fresh. Not a thing. Will spout tons of shite tomorrow. Be a banalityfest to end all fests.

Reasons I'm an idiont #6246

I burnt my mouth yesterday. I'm not talking 'Thats hot in my mouth' burnt. I'm talking blisters. I actaully blistered the roof of my mouth. In two places. Its not particularly painful, but it is the most... unique feeling.

It kinda stung when I ran my tongue over it, but in a good way. So when I got home I decided to try the pain tolerance of my mouth...



by eating chips...



hard, poky chips....



of the salt and vinegar variety.


I didn't think that one through really well.

If my mouth could detatch itself from my face it would have beaten me over the back of the head until all of the stupid fell out.

Dreamless bliss

I want to wake up to someone
who chases away my dreams.
On the nights where I don't sleep,
where I see things,
that should never be seen,
when I feel things,
that are not be done.

Where I wake feeling violated,
angry, defenceless, sickened,
Abandoned.
And hot tears soak soak my lashes
Its not me,
Its not even real
But it's in my head.
Its there and it won't go away.

When tears and screams
can't get the feeling,
the image,
out of my heart.
I can only seek solace
I numbness,
So that I see nothing.
I want to wake to someone
who can chase away my dreams

The night that was

Saturday night was awesome!! So it was more of a 'gathering' than 'party'. Not enough people to play trick and treat. But I still had fun. So much fun that we're going to have a do-over this weekend.

Highlights include

• Decorating, including bringing out the inaugral 'party flamingo'
• Playing 'pin the nose on the pumpkin'
• Asking everybody to get a towel out of the laundry. Unbeknownst to them that we had filled it with balloons! And by the end of the night telling everybody that it was our balloon storage area. Turns out that every balloon contained a bad spirit and by confining them to one area we limited all of the bad that they could do.
• The half hour I was a 'devilatrix', until I decided breathing was way more important than looking hot. The fact that every time I laughed I split a seam on my corset was also a deciding factor.
• Setting the popcorn on fire
• Watching my housemate try to crush an egg with one hand.
• Picking up all of the ballons and putting them in the shower as a surprise for my housemate when she goes to have her shower in the morning.

Decorations, and the personal bar of me and Robyn

Percy the Party Flamingo

"Devilatrix"

It was popcorn

The morning after...

Drop it like its hot

I'd like to start of by thanking Steph for breaking the blog barrier on this topic.

You know how hard it is to concentrate when you've gotta take a dump? Its like a fair chunk of your mind is concentrating so hard on deliberately trying to ignore it. I had that feeling this morning. But I thought I could hang on to it to let it go until I got home. It had other ideas. About three o'clock it started demanding my attention. But at that stage of the day its too far away from finishing to have them sitting in the tea room, but close enough knock off to have everyone looking to start slacking, and wandering in and out of the locker room at will.

For me taking a dump is a private experience, that is best savoured as much as possible. And having other people intrude, or making it a quickie doesn't really do it for me. So I decided to wait. Unfortunately by the time I remembered I had to go shopping after work it was WAY too late to let it go. Plus I was sooo busy.

About 5.30 it raised its voice. Tramping round my colon and knocking on the walls. 'Let me out of here'. It wanted freedom. I was too restricting for it. But I was reluctant to let it go. Public toilets do not make for the ideal escape setting. Plus they smell. It tried to creep out a few times while I was shopping. But my sphincter agreed with me, and subsequently escapes where prevented. Such was my desperation that I considered letting it go out in the car park. Just squatting out there and dropping him off. That thought lasted all of about 0.3 seconds before it was dismissed.

I managed to quell his escape attempts. And upon reaching home release was almost (but not quite) intantaneous. And it felt... words cannot describe.

Suffice to say its the kind of satisfaction that usually results in a nap afterwards.

Random Hilarity Ensues

We're having a party. Finally. Its a housewarming. I've only lived here since June. We decided to make it a halloween theme. We are going to decorate, and dress up, drink and play games. One of the games we're playing is called "Trick and Treat". Basically we're going to buy some damn expensive, individually wrapped chocolates. And put an instruction inside the wrapper, to make people act in odd and random ways. Should be fun. Some of the rules for our little game are as follows.

1. Accepting a chocolate means you accept the challenge
2. The trick is hidden in the treat wrapper
3. if you do not complete the challenge an appropriate punishment will be meted out by the hostesses
4. Do not let anybody know your challenge
5. Challenges must not be completed within one metre of the snack table, OR within 10 minutes of accepting the challenge
6. Maximum two challenges at a time.
7. All treats are handled with gloves. Some may have been licked. Don’t ask.
8. if there is no suggestion as to how many times/how long the trick must go for, it is over within an hour
9. When the challenge is completed you can stick the piece of paper here* (just so people don’t think your normally weird). You must wait at least 10 minutes from the completion of the task to stick it up.

Some of the tricks we have are:

• Kiss at least 4 people on the hand/wrist. At least one of these people must be of the same sex as you. You must have met one of these people tonight.
• Leave a conversation abruptly with a statement that ‘I just farted”
• Sing and dance a nursery rhyme (eg itsy bitsy spider, or I’m a little teapot).
• Find out someone’s middle name and refer to them using it for the entire night
• Make as many people as possible growl (grr…)
• Convince somebody that you are gay (or, if you are gay, that you are straight)
• High five everybody
• Announce each time you go to the bathroom. (this will be funnier if you pick one random person and tell them every time) for the whole night. You may accept two challenges if you want.
• Compliment somebody on their toes
• Follow somebody around until they ask you what you are doing
• Laugh at everything somebody says for five minutes
• Take a drink from somebody, take a sip, and give it back. Do this three times.
• Use the word mushroom as many times as possible during the night
• Tell someone that they have ‘shiiny’ skin
• Enter 3 conversations with ‘have you ever… killed a man before’
• Tell someone that you’ve been staring at their butt, while they are talking to other people
• Initiate a game of chinese whispers
• Pinch 5 people on the cheek and claim they are beautiful
• Dance when no one else is
• Tell someone ‘I have arms’
• Enter a conversation and only talk about yourself until the other person/somebody leaves
• Do the exaggerated drunk ‘[insert name here], I luv u’
• Point to the nearest person NOT in costume and start a chant of ‘strip, strip, strip’
• Strip (to underwear) and/or kiss someone on the mouth
• Take a bite from a chocolate, wrap it up again, and put it back in the bowl
• Smell people
• Start a game of chubby bunny
• Select a random person. Every time they talk, interrupt them
• Quote as many movies as possible
• Enter a conversation and ask if anybody wants to give you 6 condoms. If asked why say you’re doing a survey
• Tell people ‘I am well maintained’/’I maintain myself well’
• Start a conversation about pubic hair
• Tell a group of people the hokey pokey is what its all about, and do the motions

We want more ideas along these lines. So pitch in everybody! Lets make normal people weird!

*On the instruction poster.

Did you see the flying pink square too?

Yesterday was shitful. It was one of the most tense, frustrating and exhausting days I think I've ever had. By the end of it I just wanted to go home and cry, and have sex, and drink myself stupid. I did all three, by myself. Three cheers for mental health!!!

Unfortunately the 1am bed time coupled with being at the tail end (but not close enough to the real end) of working 28 out of 32 days meant that I hit exhaustion. I hallucinate when I'm exhausted.

Today was interesting.

Will I get free steak knives with this?

My God! I feel like such a hypocrite right now. Not three weeks ago I was blogging that I'd never find love. Well notes everyone! If you try to defy the gods, they will smack your arse down. Or up. But there will be LOTS of spanking involved! I swear its the god(dess) of love trying to prove I haven't been forgotten.

First came the 'I'll never find love' blog. Then came the 'first date that wasn't' blog, followed immediately by the 'new hotness at work' angsty blog. And now its the 'return of the SR' blog.

I got a call from the SR today. Obviously we haven't been seeing each other for a while. But have remained friends. He's quit his job. That was not unexpected. And now that he has more time on his hands he wanted to know if we could catch up like old times. Only he used different words. I kinda had to paraphrase or get my blog rating changed to R18+. And I told him very firmly, in a 'no' tone of voice, not to count on it. Which he was ok with. We then arranged to meet for coffee later in the week.

My advice is this - if you don't think something is going to happen, don't say it. Climb on top of the tallest building/bridge and scream it at the world. Or blog it. Whatever. Just make sure as many people as possible know. You could try taking out a freaking TV ad during the grand final. That way, when fate or the Gods or the fairy dust on your keyboard decided to take you out, its easier for them to make you to suffer a very public, very humiliating smack in the face. And sometimes thats not necessarily a bad thing.

Dear Abby

Dear Abby

I am in a bit of a pickle. I am kind-of but-not-quite seeing someone. We have arranged to meet quite often but it always kept getting pushed back and put off due to my work and his study commitments. I really like this guy, but I dont expect this 'relationship' to go anywhere, if even it is a relationship.

The thing is, I have also, very recently met someone else. And sparks have flown. I've seen him twice in a week in a work environment. My uniform is blue overalls that were a snug fit 20 kilos ago, and boots. Its not at all flattering. And this guy can't keep his eyes off me. He's the kind of guy you would expect to have a trillion girls after him. He's absolutely gorgeous, with soulful brown eyes, he funny, and sweet, and very intelligent. He has beautiful manners, with perfect diction, with a hint of an english accent, like he's maybe from there and came to Australia when he was a child, or one of his parents has said accent. He does not at all strike me as the player type, in fact he seems a little reserved, maybe even shy.

I have caught him in various stages of checking me out - the "full on look", and "quick look away" where you turn around to see the last of his head movement, and then he has the most carefully neutral, slightly absorbed expression on his face, but he had no idea what was going on in front of him. And then there was the "you can't seee me look". I was talking to someone else, he was across the room, almost straight off to my right, and there was someone standing between us. All of a sudden, out of the corner of my eye, I see this little face appear over the right shoulder of the person standing between us. It stared in my direction for a little bit, then, as I was about to leave the room, it slowly went back to its original position.

There is definite interest there for both parties. And as we will be working closely together over the coming months, this may cause a problem with the CBD situation. I'd like some advice. I do really like CDB, and I don't want to hurt him. We would have fun if we got together, which I think I want. I dont want to 'lead him on' even though I was doing it with honest intentions. I have been a bit irritated by the way it kept getting put off.

But at the same time, it takes me AGES to work up the nerve to even try to get close to a guy. So it may not be necessary to ask: What do you think?

Confused
via email

Its Date Night!

aka "Introducing Cute Dancer Boy"

And its bout bloody time. I've kept this guy under my hat for a while. When I began dancing I met this guy. And we hit it off from the start. In between trying not to stand on each others feet we just clicked. And after the beginning term, he never returned. I was crushed. But, since I was getting laid at the time, I got over it. However, by chance of fate, he was still doing dancing, but on a different night. Last term he returned. And we hit it off again. Always chatting each other up at the start and end of the night, and sticking together through 'partner change' time to make absolutely sure we had the right steps. Or so we said. Then I asked him to be my dance partner for the coming term. Cue a number swap. Huzzah!

He missed the second last night of term, and I missed the last one. So we haven't seen each other in ages. But we did arrange to 'catch up for coffee' during the break. This slowly got changed to 'coffee and a move' then 'a movie', then 'dinner' and tonight (insert drumroll here) its dinner AND a movie.

I'm not sure if this is a date. That word was never said. I think he feels the same way that I do. But I'm so excited. I'm even going to shave my legs for it! The end result will either be 'wOOt' or 'somebody pass me the chocolate bavarian'. Regardless, it will be fun.

A random moment with phish

Shoe shopping with Kez recently, and the sight of kids shoes had my hormones in overdrive. For some very very strange reason I had the irresistable urge to pick up the smallest and cutest shoes and rub their cute little soles on my cheek.

So I did!

Men!

I so don't understand guys. Especially where alcohol is involved. Its seriously not even funny. But rest assured, I'll try to make it as humorous as possible.

I've had a rather shitful week. PMS + biatch at work does not equal happy. Had quite a clash on Wednesday. Came home, and promptly went out again. No time to blog and complain. And frankly, who wants to hear it? I didnt want to be stuck in my own brain that night. So I went, and paid my money, and sat in the dark and got pummelled with somebody elses ideas. Yes, thats right. I went to the movies. Saw The Devil Wears Prada. Which I LOVED! This whole being out of the house was such a new and novel idea for me, that I decided it should be followed up with more outings, as soon a possible. Of four nights I was out for three! Huzzah!

Last night was a cack. Me, my housemate, and her bestie from school went out. Dressed up, cleavage and party earring OUT. Two of our party had boyfriends, and I have never been interested in picking up radoms. So every guy who appraoched us was quickly sent on his way. Most of them rather abruptly. And heres ONE of the things I dont get. We were happily dancing by ourselves. And these guys would come up and dance with us. I'm fine with that. Just dont try to touch me. Occasionally we'd get these guys who would try to dance on us. They'd quickly get sent on their way with the phishez rejection special. The kicker lies here ==> they'd be offended. Like we asked them to apporach us and attempt to rub their genitals on us.

So we decided to head home. There were just us three girls in the car. I was driving. We obvioulsy hadn't picked up that night. And at two consecutive sets of light I had guys trying to chat me up from the car next to me. The first was while I was paying out a taxi driver who had entered an intersection on the red arrow, and then sat in said intersection, refusing to actually take the turn. And as I took off from the lights he bellowed out the wondow 'How ya goin?'. The most original and enticing pick up line of all. It was all I could do to not stop the car and throw my underwear at him.

When the second guy started I thought there might have been something wrong with my car. Why else would I have two guys in a row attempting to talk to me, through a window, when I was obviously talking to the passengers in my car? So I wound down the window. And got asked where we were heading to. Replied 'home', and wound the window up, resuming conversation
with my passengers. Apparently that was not obvious enough. Because he kept asking me to wind down the window, so he could chat me up.

It must have been obvious that despite all of our best efforts, we had failed to pick up, and were heading home to be by ourselves. Of course we were so grateful that these guys were considerate enough to try to alleivate our lonliness at such a late hour, when they were heading home themselves.

Entertainment is always appreciated.

Sleep now please

I haven't slept well over the last few days. I've been so uber excited. BEYOND uber excited.

After my next birthday I'm moving overseas (at the moment thinking europe, though not ruling out USA/Canada) to work and travel, for a year or two.

The following are reactions I've had from other people

• "What?"
• "ah..."
• 'WOW'
• "Oh God"
• "When?"
• (and my personal favourite) *stops suddenly and swallows* apparently she wanted to get a head start on digesting that news

The following are reactions I've had within myself

• teeth chattering from excitement
• beeing scared poopless
• laughing
• crying (not sure if from excitement or fear)
• jumping up and down, with arms tucked in to my sides, slightly bent over, and grinning like a mainiac on crack, slowly turning in circles
• dancing like an uber retard
• telling everybody I know
• shivering

How forever feels

Big news. So excited. Can't type. Two words. Per Sentence. Chance of a LIFETIME. Ok, that was more that two words but I can't count at the moment. I'm going to dance. Or jump around like a spastic.

Big orange ball, sinkin' in the water
Toes in the sand, couldn't get much hotter
Little umbrella shaped margaritas
Coconut oil, tannin' senioritas
Now I know how Jimmy Buffet feels

Hands on the wheel, cruisin' down the interstate
Gas pedal sticks, carries my car away
I was going fast as a Rambler goes
I could feel the speed from my head to my toes
Now I know how Richard Petty feels

I've been around the block a time or two
Done almost everything a boy can do
I've done some livin', yeah I've had fun
But there is one thing that I haven't done

Saved two months, bought a little diamond
Tonights the night, feels like perfect timin'
Down on one knee on momma's front steps
Man I'm gonna die if she really says yes
I wanna know how forever feels

I've been around the block a time or two
Done almost everything a boy can do
I've done some livin', yeah I've had fun
But there is one thing that I haven't done

I wanna know how forever feels
Hey, I wanna know how forever feels
Girl, I wanna know how forever feels

Falling in Love

I believe in love. But I dont beleive that it exists for me. Its not sad. It doesnt hurt. Its just a fact of life. I'm not saying this for attention. And I do NOT want anybody to try to convince me otherwise. To me, this kind of epiphany is about as dramtic as 'I have toes'.

I came to this realisation at my best friends wedding. And I said it to a close friend of mine. And she spent the whole night trying to convince me otherwise. I hated it. If anybody else had said that you'd think that they were trying to make the night about them, in a kind of 'pay attention to me' kind of way. I'm too independant to go for that crap in the first place. And I do genuinely like my own company. The most appropriate response in that situation was 'oh bummer' or 'that sucks'.

And to commemorate this momentous occasion, I choose to share some lyrics that sum up my thoughts almost exactly...

*************************************
Presenting 'Falling in Love'

Falling in love with love
Is falling for make-believe
Falling in love with love
Is playing the fool

Caring too much is such a juvenile fancy
Learning to trust is just
For children in school

I fell in love with love one night
When the moon was full
I was unwise with eyes
Unable to see
Falling in love with love
With love ever after
But love fell out with me

I fell in love with love one night
When the moon was ful
lI was unwise with eyes
Unable to see

I fell in love with love
With love everlasting
But love fell out with me

Get well soon mom!

I've been sick. Again. Its not enough to be sick during my holidays. Now I have a secondary infection, in all of its green mucousy, vomtastic, drug taking glory.

It was my first day back at work from my big holiday. And about 20 minutes in I'm making like I hadn't seen the toilet bowl at work in YEARS. I gave it a big cuddle. Then went and made myself a doctors appointment and now have three more days off work.

So I went home, dosed up on all the drugs I could find, which was, alas, a very poor selection, and put myself to bed. And I'm lying there, all sick, and achey and felling like badness, when Boots brings me a present to cheer me up. She comes into the room with this thing in her mouth, leaps onto the bed, and drops it.











For those of you who need assistance to interpret the picture. It is the cap off a shaving gel can. It still has soap scum on the inside, and must have been on the floor of my mould encrusted shower for some time before she discovered its delights. Its fun to push around, see.


I’m honoured that she chose to share this very special, most disgusting gift with me.

Its September

Again. And that can onlt mean one thing. Christmas decorations.



This photo was taken just over a week ago. If you can't see it clearly, its christmas cakes, and puddings, and mince pies. In September.

Honestly I'd feel sickened by it, if it weren't for the big $0 price tag at the bottom. Apparently its free to sell your soul these days...

Part 2

How awesome are holidays. I have had the most fun down south. And I have come up with the following conclusion – I love Melbourne!

My time in Melbourne has been quite busy. Friday consisted of spending time with one of my high school mates. Then going to see rello’s. Followed by quality time out with my cousin and his mates at the elephant and wheelbarrow. And let me tell you girls and gays – the lead singer in that band was hotter than instant coffee. And I’ll bet he tasted better too. My cousins mates weren’t sure about the capacity in which I was present. And I was fine to let them wonder. It meant that I didn’t have to worry about peeling various hands from various body parts all night long. I looked damn hot too.

The wedding was amazing. It was my first. The bride looked amazing, naturally. I spent most of the time catching up with the bridesmaid. Another mate of mine from school. My one regret about the wedding was that I couldn’t the there for the hens night or engagement party. I was so looking forward to the big day, and it was over so damn fast it was depressing. Plus I didn’t actually get to talk much to the bride. I’m not worried or offended. I’m honored that I was chosen to go.

It was quite amusing though. Because I didn’t know anybody there, I made some friends reeaal fast. We went to the pub for a few drinkies between the ceremony and the reception. And it turns out that some of the guys that I went along with, and shared a table with at the reception, had been out at the same pub as I the previous night. In fact, one of them looked damn familiar. The kind of familiarity that begins with being watched. That sounds more creepy than it was. This guy was watching me at the E&W, waiting for the tall dark haired guy to leave my side. What are the odds of that? Then he was really chatting me up at the wedding. Having gone there by myself I kinda stuck out like a sore thumb during the couple dances. So he’d come over and chat to me. At the end of the night he was encouraging me to go out with them all. And then he told me if he ever came to Sydney he’d look me up. And I should do the same next time I was down in Melbourne. What are the odds of THAT?!?

Blogger, I heart you! Because of your wonderful communication medium, I was able to see Kez, and even go shoe shopping, without having to worry about catching up on the past five years. So it was immediately into conversations about blokes and commitment and baby shoes.

I have also noticed something else that is very peculiar about Melbourne. The train lines (or, in the very least the line I was traveling on) are not fenced off. They have roads, running along a very wide nature strip, and then bam! The train line. Or car parks at the station, where gravel runs right up to the curb.

So I’ve come to the sedate (read: boring) country. Where there is nothing to do, and all the time in the world to do it! I’ve bummed around the house, and gone out with a high school mate. And I’ve been thoroughly bored. My little home town, where nothing ever changes. Where you will still find your high school ‘male friend’ working the same dead end job, still being a knuckle dragger. I occasionally go in and ogle it. Only occasionally. Because sometimes a girl needs to be reminded about why she has her standards. And it works to kill the libido when its getting out of hand.

Coming soon – nose rings and snot regulation AND the joys of fake tanning moisturizer! Stay tuned folks. I’m learning lots on my holidays.

Holidays with Phish pt.1

So I'm on holidays. About damn time too. The last two days at work SUCKED balls, and arse. All at the same time. But I'm not going into that. Cuz I'm on holidays and don't need to think about that shite.

What I am going to think about is what I'm going to tell you here.

I have spent a fair bit of time in transit ove the last few days. Travelling to the airport. Flying to Melb, and on public transport to visit a high school mate today. And I have come to the following conclusions.

1. American express is predatory. Coming through the security check into the actual gates everybody goes down an escalator. And Amex has a stand there to prospect out potential suckers. Sorry, customers. Cue phishy walking through, following two people. Amex guys thinking 'middle aged businessman. No. Young businesswoman in a suit. Pass. Young single white female - go!Go!!GO!!!' 'Excuse me ma'am...' I could see him casing me out as I went through the metal detectors. And as I approached he was practially salivating. It was kinda like watching a shark pick out its prey. If sharks could salivate. And its prey could defend itself by not looking at it and responding with a 'not interested'.
2. I like Melbourne's public transport better than Sydneys. Sure Sydney's carry more. But the trains are old and smelly and always crowded. Even when your the only one in the carriage. Melbourne trains are open and airy. And, unless someone is standing, always look inviting. Except the seat next to the fat tattoo'd bloke with shorts that are waaay too tihgt, or have bits falling out the side. And theres the added bonus that ONE ticket will cover you for ALL trains, buses and trams in your set zones. OF WHICH THERE ARE ONLY THREE. So one ticket can cover you for all public transport in, around, and occasionally far from the city. Fact! And then there are the trams. They are so cool. Potentially deadly, but very cool. They are such a novelty to non-Melbournites.
3. I was thinking I could drive in Melbourne. That its not much different from driving in Sydney. And then I saw someone do a hook turn. And I thought 'I was wrong'.

Sure to blog about in the next few days;

Tomorrow* - the wedding

Sunday* - meeting with Kez

Sometime soon* - post from my sister. Get thinking babe!

*Blogging is unlikely to be done on those days, except for the 'sometime soon bit'. Cuz thats not a day.

Bitch, moan and complain.

Yes, you heard me. ALL THREE. About 10 times over. Todays topic... work. Or work ethics. Or a lack thereof.

Last week was hell with flourescent lighting. We have been having staffing issues of late. And by that I mean UNDERstaffing issues. And when I say of late I mean about FOUR months. Of 7 positions we have 5 staff members. And thats 7 FULL ON positions. We're split over two sections. There's three in my section, and two in the other. And last week, in my section, one person was on holidays, and the other person was at a conference the last three days. So it was my supervisor, Mr Bare-Minimum, and myself. He had three of my four normal areas, while I had the areas belonging to the one on holidays, and when the other went to the conference I took her normal areas too. PLUS all of my normal autoclave preparations. It was exhausting. Physically and mentally to say the least. I wasn't finishing until the whistle blew. But I never complained.

Today I went into my normal areas and find that Mr BM is an overstatement for this guy. I left instructions in the diary for everything. I always do, even for myself. So I NEVER forget anything. He hadn't changed any water bottles or room filters. In ANY of the rooms. In one room I found a massive oversight. That I had written in the diary to watch out for. This then makes my job alot harder as I had to estimate when it happened, and I may not wean the babies on time. It may be too early or too late. If its too early, then the babies will not have the same immune system or growth compared to the others. If she's pregant soon after, and I mistime weaning, I can have newborns and weaners still together. Lots of potential for disaster there.

In another room I find fighting animals that should really have been sparated last week.

In the other area that he took over I literally had to crank out the elbow grease and cleaners to scrub filth from the animal pens. At 20 minutes to knock off.

The thing that really bites, is that Mr BM was complaining to the people who share our facility that I have no right to complain or take so long about my job. Which is utter CRAP and they all know it. Even though they didnt say anything to him at the time. I work damn hard and I'm quick. In the time he took to change one room I normally have it cleaned, all the paperwork is done, the waterbottles are changed and the floor is disinfected.

He also boasted that he had FOUR rooms PLUS the communal clean that happens at the end of each day. Which is bullshit. He only checked the other room three times. By that logic I had 7 rooms. And he did no communal clean. I did. And I did ALL of the autoclaving preparation for my department. His boast was my standard week, and he didn't even do that.

I need a holiday, or a new job. I have a holiday coming up (one work day left in fact), but I don't think that it will be enough.

Careerone here I come.

My two cents

I know its a bit late, but I have something to say.

I'd like to air my views on the untimely death of Steve Irwin.

Jay Leno called him 'the greatest ambassador Australia ever had'. Wrong. He was a great ambassador for the STEREOTYPE that Americans WANTED to see us as. Very different to the way we are. Like most Australians I did not appreciate his portrayal of our great nation. But I had to admire his attitude to our attitude to him. He knew it, and acknowledged it. And didn't care. Like any true Aussie.

Germaine 'sodding' Greer called him an 'animal tormentor' and stated that the animals had had their revenge, or something similar. Wrong again. Steve Irwin has done more single handedly for conservation than any living person. Except maybe David Attenborogh. But maybe not. He has bought massive tracts of land, to keep them in their natural state. He raised so much awareness of our own unique (or, as we Aussies say, boring) wildlife. But he didn't stop there. He cared for all wildlife. Native or introduced. Rare or pest. From scorpions to whales. And he was so passionate about what he did. And that worked up enthusiasm in others. He taught many people more than just the basics about animals. But for all that, in the end he committed one of the most basic and dangerous errors. He approached an animal in a threatening position, and he surprised it.

When I forst heard of his death, like most people, I was stunned. For all of his foolishness he seemed immortal. Like he had superpowers. And in a way, he did. Wouldn't we all like to conquer our fears?

As an Australian I'd be inclined to remember him as a bloody idiot. Bearing in mind any description of a person beginning with 'bloody' is a compliment. But as an educated animal professional, I feel it is an irrevocable loss.

I am returnded

Hello fellow bloggers. I have given up all hopes of finding a life. For a while there I seemed to be doing pretty well. But that was then, and now is blogging.

I have myself a pretty new computer. So I intend to spend my weekend sitting in front of it, slowly making myself blind. Yes people... this one's got a DVD player!!! So I can watch as much porn as I want. Apparently self love makes you go blind too. Who'd've thunk it?

But the advantage of having a shiny new 'puter, and a shiny new phone, is that they combine to override my almost complete technological fucktardary!!! Thus, I have pictures...


Rai (pronounced Rye(as in the seed)-AH(as in the noise you make after sex)









Boots




Rai again, just cuz its pretty




Me and boots, two pretty faces in one pic








Just because I can








Y'all come back now!

Be Back Soon

I hate being on hold. Its such a waste of time. I hate hold music. ALL hold music.

Crappy jingles that companies put on to advertise their stuff drive me up the wall. Like, HELLO!!! I'm WANTING to talk to you. There is no need to push MORE of your product at me with these CRAPPY jingles. Its worse when they have about one minute of jingle and about 10 minutes of hold. If its not bad enough the first time, they'll make you listen to the bloody thing again... and again... and again... until it is so firmly etched into your brain that 5 years down the track, in one pure moment of complete peace, it will raise its ugly, irritating head. And the worst bit of all, is that the momery is only lodged in the 'I'm bored' part of your brain. So when you actually NEED to remember said company, or one of their products, you'll just have that crappy 'its on the edge of my brain' feeling when you can't quite remember something. And its not life-and-death enough to go google it.

Classical music takes my insanity, drives it out to the country, and leaves it there. Never to be seen again. I think I'm the only person to get pissed off by classical hold music. They play it to appease us. And for that reason alone I hate it. Stop messing with my head and answer the damn phone.

No hold music is the worst. It gives me nothing on which to focus my rage at being on hold. So I think. And that's never a good thing to do. My brain comes up with some really odd things at times.

And if the hold music isn't bad enough, there are the little interruptions where they tell you that your call is important, your time is important, we want your business, just wait 15 fucking minutes more. Pigs arse I'm important to you. I'm only calling because its direly important and I can't get to the appropriate section on your webpage. Or you backwards fuckers don't have a goddamned webpage!!! Each time the hold music comes off, there's a little pause, and possibly a dial tone, and your heart races. You think you're actually going to talk to a real person. You straighten up, you actually smile, thinking your phone ordeal is almost over. And then you hear it... "[Said company] appreaciates...." bullshit. You slump back down and stare blankly at the wall, desk, space etc. That bit is the worst. I count those bits. It doesn't make me feel any better. Its the effect that hold music has on me. It scrambles my brain.

But I'm always nice to the operator. I know its not their fault. Unless its centrelink and they're telling me I owe them $400 (which took 5 months to prove I didn't, but thats another story)!!!

At the end of the call I gently place the phone back in its cradle. Slowly get up or turn away from the phone. The hold music has defeated me. Then I spin back towards the phone and do my best impression of the 'Spiderweb, with no spider but leaves-which-scare-the-crap-out-of-me, and-then-make-me-angry-for-being-scared-at-leaves' dance towards said offensive object.

Hire some more operators dammit!

And now a word from...

How good are pods? I've only just discovered them. Seems I've been living under a rock. A huge rock. AYERS ROCK!!!

I want to have sex with the person who came up with the concept.

I have learnt

that you can take batteries out of 'high powered devices' such as cameras or vibrators that have been run DRY, stick them in your mp3 player, and magically have a full battery again!!!

Life... Pfft!!!

Ok. Life seems to be slightly eluding me at the moment. But I have heaps of almost-life-type stuff to say.

I'd like to begin with a quick one about my computer. I hate it (no 'puter, you didn't just read that. Its ok. I love you...). Anyhoo. It randomly freezes. And I mean randomly. With or without music; it can be five minutes into being turned on, or five hours; programs running or just sitting there, idle. Tis most irritating. I can be about to kill the last dude needed to conquer the world. And then I realise that my dudes aren't moving. And there's no sound...

But most irritating is when I'm doing real work, with words and/or numbers, or putting music on my mp3 player.

I've tried defragging, virus scanning (with TWO different progrmas), deleting stuff and reinstalling windows. Nothing works. @#^!ing computer.

******************************************
I went out on the weekend. Not an 'I got out of the house' type out. I mean OUT out. With people. And drinking. And dancing. And seeing the sun come up. And a gay guy, cuz seriously, when is a night out a REAL night out without the token gay?

As a result of this almost-lifeness of the weekend, I was raaather tired on monday night. Just as I was about to go to bed, I hit overtired. And I hit it HARD. You know how little kids go when they get overtired? Excluding the grumpy-but-cute eye rubbing, I was like that. I was running around laughing at the walls, spouting randoms quotes from Scrubs ("You don't scare me woman... I'll apologise at rounds"), and singing two ladies from Cabaret.

Overtired + insanity = 'somebody call the men in white jackets'

******************************************
I love this post. I don't comment there often, but I heart this guy. He's funny, and smart, and he has an absolutely amazing writing style. You really do feel when you read his stuff.