True Phishy Style

So a few months ago I won an oxygen facial in a raffle. $10 in tickets. I win a $180 facial. Pretty good investment.

We had our work Christmas Party with a cocktail theme. I say its a theme, because they only serve beer, wine, champagne, juice and sparkling water. But at least, unlike another blogger, our work did pay for the goodies. And in between finishing work, and starting the party, I decided it would be best to utilise that voucher. I mean, it expires in 13 days, and I really don't want to waste my $10.

So I had it all planned out. I'd walk down to the bus station, catch the 324,325,326 or 327 down the road to a certain intersection, walk round the corner, and hesto presto, be there. Right on time. I even had maps printed out so that I wouldn't go astray!

Well, party day was shitful. Utterly, utterly shitful. I was sleep deprived, hungry, feeling fat (work out how those 2 go together would ya!), tense (taking the last 1 1/2 weekdays off work, so had to squeeze in a hell of a lot of work) , and broke, even though it was payday. I was pushed for time because the party started earlier than I'd expected, and I was hoping to head out to dinner beforehand, so I'd be less tempted to snack on shit.

And during the day, I hit the lollies at work, which did not help with the stressed out feeling from being fat.

In short, I just wanted Wednesday and Thursday to be over. I gave a blood sample to a research group, and got a tim tam back as a reward. I normally really do not like Tim Tams. I would even go so far as to say that I dislike them, on most occasions, but on Wednesday, that Tim Tam really made my afternoon.

So you've got the picture. I are a cranky fucker.

So I had arranged to leave 15 minutes early from work. No drama. I got out the door no drama. Missed the bus. By, like, 1 minute. Literally. Fuck. The next bus that came along took the long way. Well, it was either that one, or wait 10 minutes for the next one. I took the long way. I did enjoy the scenic route. And, surprisingly, I didn't get lost getting to where I had to go. It was amazingly simple to find. And I was only 8 minutes late. Which, for me, is some kind of record.

When I got there the door was locked. Hum. Maybe she was out getting coffee. I rang her. The phone rang. And rang. And rang.

And rang.

I rang her for a good 3 minutes. I knocked on the door, I rang the door bell. I rang again. For 3 solid minutes. I texted Kez. I was getting seriously pissed off. Sure, i wasted the first 10 minutes of the appointment, but where the fuck was she?

I pulled out the voucher to see if there was an alternate phone number to call, and she rang me back. I told her I was there, and she said, 'ok, I'll see you soon,' and hung up. I waited at the door for 5 more minutes. I knocked on the door again. I rang the buzzer again.

So far, 20 minutes has elapsed from the start of the appointment time. I rang her. Again, no answer. As I dialed the alternate number on the voucher, the neighbour rocks up. She was kind enough to inform me that they hadn't moved into the building yet, and gave me clear, concise directions to the other address.

I headed off, mightily annoyed. I rang the alternate number as I walked, and told her that the address I had was from the website, and it was different to the current address. She gave me directions that were slightly less concise than her future neighbour's.

And I got lost. I headed back to the road she was loacted on, started searching on the wrong side of the road. Moved to the correct side, and, judging by the numbers, ascertained that I had to go left. I went left. Turns out I had to go right.

So I finally got there. Half an hour late.

The facial itself was quite nice. She got me to stip til I was mostly naked, and got between the sheets. There was relaxing music in the background. She wiped pleasant smelling stuff on my face, gave me cold and hot compresses (I preferred the hot ones), dropped ice cold liquids across my forehead, chin, cheeks and chest. Applied varying pressures, and different massage techniques across my face, neck, scalp and chest. There was one point where she was tapping all over my face, and it felt like tarantuals were tap dancing acorss my cheeks. I'm arachnaphobic, but I almost cracked up laughing.

The facial went for an hour. And by the end of it I felt pretty liquid. All clean and fresh. Ready for my sweaty walk uphill back to work for the party...

Stupid, Stupid Girl

So, right off the back of a post about how men are stupid comes my own installment.

So, for those not playing at home, I used to be a fatty. Still am a bit podgy in the middle, but I can lose it in a short period of time. Anyways, I went on this killer 12 week challenge at the gym, lost a stack of weight and felt fantastic.

Challenge over. Weight begins to creep on. This morning I told a workmate/bestie that she is to pull me up if I do anything dietarily questionable.

Ok, so the scene is set. I've lost a stack of weight and am having difficulty maintaining it.

Anyways. A few days ago, me and the workbestie got together and put an order in for some lollies. I wanted some to decorate my gingerbread house, but was never going to eat the amount that I'd have to get, in order to have enough variety. So we went halves in an order.

This is what we got
Mates, 380g,
Raspberry bullets, 400g
White chocolate raspberry bullets, 400g,
Coffee Eclairs, 400g
Chocolate eclairs, 400g
Gummy party mix, 750g
Seconds lollies, 1kg

That was to SHARE. Between TWO of us.

I also got 2 bags of sugar free lollies, a pack of choc coated jelly raspberries, several assorted individual packs of fruit and nut, and 550g mixed buds.

Total = over 3.5kg.*

Of lollies.

I just came off a killer diet.

FAARRRRKKKK.

I am scared. Terrified even, of these lollies. They are currently living in my locker at work. The good news is, I'm not game to open the bag to sneak even one. I'm going to have to give them away.

So, who wants lollies for Christmas?

*Though it was a total bargain. 3.5kg lollies for $35, including postage. And the very small amount I've sampled were fucking divine.

Why men are stupid.

What's this? A post? On my sad, neglected blog? Why yes, yes it is. Will anyone even notice?

Ok, so its been a while since I posted. A quick wrap up - I dieted. And that's about it. It was hard, I sweated, I shrank, I won the 12 week challenge. And I've spent the last 3 weeks gaining weight again. *sigh*

But that's not what I wanted to blog about. I wanted to tell you all about a friend of mine. Lets call him Friend. See what I did there, put a capital on it and added some fontage. Tricky stuff.

I have known Friend for about 18 months now. I see this guy as a purely platonic friend. How many of you already know where this is going? Twice over the course of the last 18 months he's asked for more. And twice I've told him, quite firmly, that I see him as just a friend, and nothing was going to happen.

A few weeks ago, he calls me up. Bitching that I don't answer his calls or respond to his messages. I got a little snarky when I told him that, as it explains in my voice mail message, I do not get reception at work, so if he's calling during work hours, its not so much that I ignore his calls, as I don't get them. I told him I was in the 12 week challenge and was full on, crazy busy, no time to catch up.

He continues to call and text. Sometimes at 7am, when I'm asleep on the train, sometimes at 10pm, when I'm about to head to bed.

On facebook he began bagging out gym junkies. Now, if you're not aware of this, I am one. I love the gym so hard it hurts. Literally. I have quite a lot of friends at the gym, both trainers and guys from the challenge. Guys and girls. And I love them to bits. I have never known a bunch of more committed, hard working individuals. And any slur on these guys was a reflection on me.

It happened again on Sunday night. I posted a status update about chocolate being better than men. I mean, hell, I've gone long periods without either, and it wasn't men I was looking forward to most.

I could see it happening a mile off. Frantically I tried to divert the conversation. But he was set. It started with him insulting the gym and junkies, then he asked me out. Publicly. But it wasn't even an appealing proposition. He wanted me to meet up with him so that I could buy him lunch/dinner. On a thread that had been already commented on by one of the trainers. This trainer was privvy to the whole conversation. So I can pretty much guess that all of the guys at the gym know about what happened.

I ended up texting a friend and she intervened to tell him that I couldn't share chocolate with him. I was highly embarrassed. If you're on facebook, don't bother looking for the chat. Its been deleted.

I took the conversation private. And this is the ensuing conversation.

Hey.

Just letting you know that I'm deleting you as a facebook friend. I really didn't like the way you asked me out on my status last night. I see you as a friend, nothing more, and I've told you this several times. I don't want to hurt you, or lead you on.

If you can handle being friends with me, just friends, then add me again. If you can't, then I won't hurt you, and I think its best that we leave it alone.

Its up to you.

***

His response was something along the lines of

'there was nothing to not like about what I asked. Unless you don't want to be asked out. Anyway, you deleted me, so its up to you to add me again.'

Seems he thought I'd been playing hard to get.

I'm, not 100% sure, I ended up deleting the thread.

***

My response:
I did not like being asked out by someone that I have repeatedly told I am not interested in. I feel awkward telling you this again. It makes me feel uncomfortable about catching up with you as a friend.

I am giving you the option of adding me again. If you can't handle being PLATONIC friends, then this is very sadly going to have to be the end of our acquaintance.

*block said tool*

The End. Men are stupid.

Not. Happy. Jan.

So I had a corker of a weekend. Something worth blogging about! Yay me.

Two groups within our building had been planning a 'friendly' soccer match. It got cancelled because of the weather, rescheduled, cancelled... you get the picture. Finally, after about a month and a half, it was game on. Most of my close friends were on the team, so of course I headed down to watch.

It was not friendly. But it was hell fun to watch. Then we headed back to work for the real fun... free beer.

Yep. FREE BEER.

How anti diet. I started on light. That lasted all of about, oh, one beer. Then I started on the heavies. Slowly people began to filter off as the night wore on. The food was eaten, and before long it was me and a friend of mine, playing pool, finishing the last of the bevvies.

We headed to the pub. More drinking ensued. He was flirty, as was I, I imagine. A few beers and I'm anyones. I have some vague recollections of meeting new people (who's names I figured out this morning), having them buy me rounds. I bitched about my (endlessly messy) roomie. I tried to convince people to go to a strip club in the cross. Which resulted in a very manly conversation about how awesome boobs were - with a girl, who was also straight. That in turn became questions about whether I was straight or not. I remember watching my mate play pool. It was cold. He disappeared, as did I about 20 minutes later. I figure I had about 12 beers under my belt.

Ew. Anti diet.

So I headed off. Trundled myself from the pub near work and headed home. I boarded my train. Only to feel instantly queasy. I tried to stay awake. In vain. I fell asleep.

I woke up wondering where the hell I was. It didn't look like any station I knew. It wasn't. I'd slept past my stop. And the eight ones after that too. Landing myself in the middle of a really, really bad part of Sydney. Fuuuccckkk.

I stumbled off the train hoping to catch one heading back in the other direction. Nobody around. I walk outside the station. There is an old guy closing up his newsagency. I ask him what platform to catch the city bound trains at. He just looks at me... no more trains this late, catch a bus.

I swear, I have never sobered up so fast in my life. There I was, bad neighborhood, drunk, cold, alone... vulnerable. Rape had gone beyond a possibility and into a liklihood.

I rang a guy friend of mine. We are (now were) really close, and he lived a suburb over. His phone rang out. I didn't know if he was asleep or screening calls. I rang back immediately. Still no response.

Shiiit. I rang another mate of mine. She'd been on the piss but I was desperate. I told her where I was, and that trains weren't running any more. She told me to wait where I was, and she was heading out the door immediately.

I sat myself at the base of the stairs, drunk, cold, alone... vulnerable.

Every 5 minutes a car would go past. Some slowed down and stared. A few yelled shit out the window. One car pulled up to wait for someone. A taxi pulled up across the road and the driver sat and stared at me. I was grateful for the waiting car. The taxi driver stared at me for what felt like a lifetime. Finally he pulled out. I texted Dee to see how long she'd be. She told me 10 minutes. She was there in 4.

I scrambled into the car, freezing and coughing my lungs up, but safe. I managed to get home at 2.30am. Dee didn't let me give her a goodbye hug. I was sick.

I spoke to the first person I'd called today. Turns out the stupid arsehole was screening my calls. Screening multiple calls from a platonic friend who never ever rang him, in the early hours of the morning. Surely that would send alarm bells ringing?