Depression can eat my fat arse

14 day challenge.

2012-02-13T21:32:00.001+11:00

So I've got nothing on for the next 2 weeks. Work is really quiet, so they've asked me not to come in for a bit. Not like I was there much anyway, but that's another story...

So I thought I'd do something productive. Thought I'd try to drop a dress size.

Day 1 summary;
7 dim sims for lunch
No gym visit.

Fail.

The reality of dog attacks

2012-02-10T10:55:00.000+11:00

Denver TV Anchor bitten on face by just rescued dog

Please take a moment to read the short article, and watch the 30 second video.

This seriously shits me!!!!

Knowing animal behaviour, tThe dog gave her a brief (but very serious) warning, and the 'attack' was nothing but a warning nip. If it had been a full fledged attack, the owner would not have been able to pull the dog off. Indeed, as soon as he had been removed from the woman, he stopped moving, submitting totally to his owner. In fact, his owner even put his hand directly on the mouth of this apparently vicious dog! Who the fuck goes to kiss a unknown dog in the face anyway! Especially in a stressful environment like a TV set?

Whats worse, is that the media are portraying this as an unprovoked attack. Gary Shapiro, co-host of the show, even wrote "...At the very end of the segment, Max snapped at Kyle for whatever reason and got some of her lip"

And now that dog, after all he's been through, will have to be removed from his owner for 10 days and quarantined (more stress). And his owner will have to go to court to face 3 charges over the attack, and not having control of his dog. Looked like he had brilliant control in that video to me. In fact, having the dog on a leash would have done nothing to stop the nip, and would have taken longer for him to returned to his owner.

This is not the dogs fault, its the womans ignorance.

Oops, I did it again

2012-02-08T23:47:00.001+11:00

When I was younger, we had a dog thatp was diabetic. In that, when she ate chocolate, about half an hour later, she would lose the ability to control her bladder.

But she was a sneaky bitch, so you would only find out she had discovered chocolates when you would get a warm, wet feeling as she was laying on your lap. Note; that warm, wet feeling was NOT self generated.

Anyway, when she lost control of her bladder, age would give you about 2 seconds notice. She would suddenly look up at you, with a pained, apologetic look on her face. It was, very clearly, '<i>I'm sorry, can't help it, please don't be mad :(</i>'

And we weren't. Right from the start, we knew it was accidental. She was very well toilet trained.

Well, tonight I was giving those looks to my sister. I'd had my first gym session in 2 weeks. 1 week heat wave, and then 1 week recovering from needing an ambulance ride. Well, since the ambulance ride, I've been dehydrated and my digestion has been upset.

And I had GAS!!! I was taking to my sister, and I'd drop a big one. And I'd apologise. Then a minute later, do it again. Her eyes were watering, and she covered her face before she left the kitchen.

At least I didn't go down to her room to have a chat :/

Surprise

2012-01-25T11:34:00.001+11:00

Its always nice when you look in the mirror and realise you've lost weight.

If you don't mind me saying...

2012-01-23T23:48:00.001+11:00

I don't understand the appeal of haiku.

First weights session

2012-01-20T00:05:00.001+11:00

This is the first 3 workouts at my gym. That third one, that's the weights sedation I have just completed. And I'm especially proud. The lighter line is the expected workout. The other one is the recorded workout.

The reason I'm proud is that 1) I did more than expected, and 2) NOT ALL OF MY SESSION WAS RECORDED! My warm up and one while weights machine weren't recorded, and there were several times when the weight recorded was less than I lifted.

Win.

2012-01-13T17:30:00.000+11:00

Ok. First week on, and I've been slack. I've been too sore to train since Monday. Plus busy as hell. Today was going to be a training day, but I'm spending it on the couch, in my jammies.

I WILL go tomorrow, or I will post a picture of my naked thighs. Which I really don't want to do since I hate them :/

Instead, I shall tell a story.

When I was in year 12, we went out planting trees for an afternoon. I know, a riot of fun right?!? Well it was. I don't care if we were all young adults. We got to spend an afternoon off, running around in a paddock and NOT doing schoolwork.

The bonus was, it was in my home town. Which was a half hour bus trip to school. All the kids in my town went home when the tree planting ended. An hour and a half early. Win.

When it came time to leave, we were told that, because of some legal bullshit, the bus was not allowed to stop to let us off. Instead, it was smarter and more responsible to get us to WALK the 2 to 6 kilometers back to our respective homies. Being from the country, it wasn't that big a deal, but still.

My house was the closest. I nominated everyone to go there, have a drink (of coke, G rated back then) and call someone to come pick them up.

As luck would have it, there were roadworks going on right out the front of my place. We got back to my place, cracked a cold one, and went out to make a suggestion to lollipop guy.

Remember that bus that wasn't allowed to stop to let us off. We stopped it. Right out the front of my house. We made it sit there for 5 minutes in the heat while we drank our cold, refreshing beverages. And our strict Catholic school teachers sat at the front and could only fume at us, with our shirts untucked, our top buttons undone, our ties down (or off), and our jumpers around our waists. EPIC Win.

While one teacher in particular looked like he was about to have an anneurism, our classmates laughed.

Still cracks me up.

iHurt 1.0

2012-01-10T14:36:00.001+11:00

Today was my first gym session in about 2 years.

2 years ago, I was a size 10 - 12. With a 70 cm waist. Today my thighs measure 80cm each :/

I refuse to know my weight. I will only know it when I start feeling and seeing results.

I got a training program written up for me. About an hour of cardio, spread through various machines. I started on the cross trainer, and felt like this when I got off...

So I did 10 minutes on the treadmill, cooled down and went home.

It. Was. AWEsome!!!

Baby Steps

2012-01-09T14:38:00.000+11:00

I have secured the 2 greatest portions of my weight loss success last time around.

A subscription to Womens Health Magazine. Arrives monthly and provides mush inspiration to keep working out.
A gym membership.

Its on....

I feel pretty, oh so pretty...

2012-01-08T14:20:00.000+11:00

Anyone who denies the existance of their ass hair is an ignorant fuck.

Last night I got massively drunk. So drunk in fact, that I woke up this morning with the taste of stale beer and garlic pizza in my mouth (diet fail), and checked the bed for 'accidents'. Thats only funny cuz there weren't any. Win!

Anyhoo, I hit the shower to make myself feel human again. I scrubbed everything, shaved and moisturised, and treated my hair. And whilst I was lady-scaping, I decided to reach back and shave my arse hair.

Now, I don't have a lot of arse hair. Just a few strands. About as much as a pubescent boys nipple hair. Not enough to really require shaving, but I do it anyway. Just to complete the baby smoothness.

It used to be quite easy to get rid of said strands. Reach back, spread cheeks with one hand, razor with the other. Hope not to nick myself. But since I've become more rotund, that just doesn't work anymore. I can't get two hands back there. So to spread the cheeks (as best I could, I had to kinda crouch down and bend over, legs spread but knees in, all in my tiny shower cubicle. And still hope not to nick myself.

And I discovered something quite strange. I'm a ranga butt. My arse hair is (was?) a lovely shade of light copper. Go figure. Naturally, I'm an ashy auburn colour. My bikini line is dark brown/black. My arse... ranga. If I had that colour on my head, I'd shave it off too.

Well, I'm human now. No more ranga butt for me!

2011 in review

2011-12-31T13:30:00.002+11:00

Hi All!

Welcome to the first annual Christmas card and letter!

Quick summary of the last few years

Moved to QLD for uni Feb 2002. Studied a degree in Animal Science. Graduated 2004. Lived in QLD a few more months working as a casual vet nurse. Got Raia.

Got a full time Job in Sydney, May 2005. Of all things, breeding mice! “You’ll never make any money breeding mice” (Sue Hackworthy, circa 1998). Moved around a bit for about 12 months. Got Boots from a friend who lived in QLD, and the furkids became fast friends.

THEN in May 2009, I got word that a routine surgery that Dad had, had complications. He wasn’t going to survive the day. Thankfully, he did. But he was in an induced coma for 10 days, then in physical rehab. I made so many trips from Sydney to Shepparton in those first 3 weeks. But it was worth it when I got to feed him his first ‘solid’ (read: pureed) meal.

Last year he got remarried, to Dhaya, pictured on their wedding day with Dhaya’s grandkids.

At the end of last year, just before Christmas, I was shitfaced, and surfing the web. One of my favourite hobbies – browsing the RSPCA/AWL/Cat rescue sites. Hey, its just like going to the pet store to look at the animals, except you do it whilst drunk, alone at home! And we all know that ends well.

I found Jazz. Who was the same breed and markings as my first cat, who went missing within days of me finding out my Grandpa had terminal cancer. When I went home to visit him, I was expecting the comfort of my kitty, only to find she was no longer there.

So I drove an hour, to a suburb I had never even heard of before. And when I found Jazz, she was perfect. Except for one tiny flaw. She could not tolerate other cats. I was there for about 2 hours, looking at other cats, cuddling her, behavioural testing her etc. Finally I climbed into the pen next to her, to see if she would come talk to me, when a cat she was in regular, close proximity to, was nearby. She did and I took her on the spot. Well, after the staff at the AWL had their final cuddles with her.

In January I was diagnosed with an autoimmune Thyroid disorder. Which tanked my energy levels, mood and metabolism, and gave me smashing headaches at the same time. Which was truly wonderful. Not. And the reality of that was that for several days a week, I was unable to even function. Even now, it still gets me from time to time.

I also moved to a place of my own in February. A tiny one bedroom granny flat. Which I loved to bits. It was all mine! Furnished it myself and got to be randomly naked. I made it totally my own, even constructing my own critter cubby so the cats could safely roam at will. I’m especially proud that, with very little DIY knowledge, I was able to do it all be myself. And it had a tree in it, which the kids thought was 9 kinds of awesome.

Even better, the neighbours at the granny flat were freaking awesome! Starting a new family, I was around when beautiful baby Geena was born. Anyone who knows me, knows I’m not really a kid person. But Geena is hands down the most beautiful baby I’ve ever known.

2 months into the lease, in April, I was made redundant. A bit of a kick in the guts, but not unexpected. Work had slowed as the grants we’d had before the last GFC ran out and were not renewed. After the shock wore off, I began to look to the future. Ever since Dad had been sick, it had been driven home pretty hard that I was too far from family. I decided now was the time to do that. I paid out my lease, and with a part time job took some time to chill out.

The only real negative from losing my job was that I also lost quite a few friends. Only 1 person from the old job has stayed in touch since I left. But I made several nutso friends from the part time job that will haunt me to my grave. Bitches :P

I made a quick dash back to Melbourne in May for my sisters 30^th Birthday. It was the first time I’d seen my family since I became unemployed. IT was a bit emotional for me, but a whole lot of fun! It was a small family gathering, with a burlesque theme. We went to the Tutenkhamun exhibition, which was utterly AMAZING!!! Then to a burlesque show, which we missed because we were busy having pre dinner drinks whilst getting ready.

So I moved down to Melbourne in August. 3 cats in 1 car for 10 hours. Oh yeah, that wasn’t a hassle at all! The plan was to have 2 cats in a large cage (with bed, water and small tray) in the back and rotate them so they all had a turn, but within an hour Boots had wet herself, so she went into the box and seemed much more comfortable for the rest of the trip.

I September I started a casual job, 3 days a week but not really making much with it. I also dumped facebook. Seriously. And it wasn’t even difficult, since we were without internet for 3 weeks. Jazz also was under extreme stress, peeing inappropriately (on my bed) every day for 5 days. Bitch got her ass MEDICATED and has become one of the most settled and affectionate cats.

In October I fell in love. With Kit. A baby Netherland dwarf rabbit. We had planned to get a rabbit at some stage, since the cage I used to move the cats down was an indoor rabbit hutch. Baby Kit, a 9 week old prey animal, has since terrified the cats with her dopey fearlessness. Jana has forbidden me from getting any more pets. Which is a good call since I saw ducklings at the pet store one day…

I also have a casual job, working weekends as a sales rep for Revolution, the parasite control product. So far I’ve only had training, and they’re over a week late with paying. Not that I mind because rent is optional right…? Right? But the first actual day is in 2 weeks and I’m super excited.

So that’s my year to date. Pretty shit when you sum it up. Sickness, umeployment, financial stress, and friends lost. It has had its good moments. At least I know who my real friends are. But sometimes its hard to look on the bright side. At the moment, I’m looking for full time work. But I am not able to do the job I have trained for and worked as for the past 6 years. I cannot cope with the emotional stress of knowing that every animal I work with will have to be euthanaised. And although I have the time ad desire, I do not have the funds for further study.

But I try to look for the future. Tomorrow I meet with an Avon Lady to see if I can get an account set up to sell it. It might not make me much, but I’m hoping it will give me enough, and something to do.

My goals for the next year are fairly simple.

· Get a job for at least 4 days a week.

· Look into study – dog behaviour and grooming

· Join a gym. I really miss zoning out.

· Write a book. May as well do something with all my free time.

But the immediate future for me… bed. Its 12:30am.

Wishing you all a safe, loving and happy festive season, new year and beyond. Special thoughts go out to those who are expecting their first child, or having Christmas with a first child. This must be a really wonderful occasion for you.

If you’d like to stay in touch, I’m on Google + (google’s version of facebook). Much simpler and less time wastage.

Love

Steph, Raia, Boots, Jazz and Kit

phishezrule@gmail.com

A TriumFAT Return

2011-12-28T21:19:00.000+11:00

Still fat.

Still mental.

But its time to take control of my life, my mind and my waistline.

Today I looked forward to joining a gym. I was practically dancing when I left work. As I got into my car some music drifted out of work and to me ears...

It was the exact tune that played in the gym the moment I was working out at my fittest ever level. I will remember that moment forever.

Its a sign.

Bring it bitch.

Bye?

2011-03-31T20:55:00.000+11:00

Due to my lack of posts, facebook is the way to find me. Old friends, send me your email address to phishez_rule@hotmail.com, and I'll add you. Don't try to find me, my profile is on lockdown.

Jazz

2010-12-22T20:01:00.001+11:00

So, I was completely shit faced the other night. Home alone. Bored with facebook, I begin to browse pet rescue sites. RSPCA, Cat Protection Society. I've seen these ones a million times before, but I can't help looking. I decide this time to look at the Animal Welfare League.

And I find her.

A blue tuxedo manx. Jazz.

This is me, when I was 13. Jess is my cat. She is a blue tuxedo manx. It seems like fate.

I trekked out to the animal shelter. An hour away. Just to see this cat. We approached the cage, and she looks up us with big eyes, and starts paddling right where she's lying. I pick her up and give her a cuddle. I'm expecting her to drool. Then for the big question. 'What's she like with other cats?' I don't need her to be friends with them immediately, I just don't want her to be aggressive.

We introduced her to the cat in the next cage. She cringed against me, and hissed at it. We hmm'd at that. I went and met all the cats, then back to Jazz. We put her on the ground, and she immediately jumped back into her cage. Poor bugger was terrified.

We bought out the extremely friendly cat next to her. And had them both on the ground at the same time. The friendly cat was walking up to cats trying to tear the cage to pieces in aggression, without a flick of a whisker. So sweet. Jazz sat in the corner.

I went and met the other cats again. I went back to Jazz, and she gave me the hopeful eyes. I think my heart broke a little then. I went into the friendly cats cage to see if Jazz would approach the wire for a pat. She did, even though the friendly cat was at my elbow.

Decision made. I'd take her.

It took me about half an hour to get her out of the cattery. Not because of anything she did, but because the staff wanted to say goodbye to her. And I was more than happy for them to get her out of the cat carrier to give her one last cuddle. When I got her home, she settled in quite well. I set her up in the bedroom, with the door open so everybody has access when I'm home. When I'm not there, she is locked away.

The first night, I woke up several times. She was either in my bed, or out exploring. The second night I got home and discovered she'd been playing with some stuff in my room. I gave her some toys to play with and she already seems to have a favourite. I was playing with her before bed. Playing 'chasey under the sheet'. She got so excited she ran at me, gave me the quickest and most unexpected head bonk, then turned and leapt off the bed and out the door. When I woke up, she was exploring, but running to me when I called her. Last night I tried to force her to explore and meet the others. It did not work. She got scared, and hid. In the middle of the night she was under the bed. I shut the door to lock her away from the others, and in the morning she was quietly asleep at my feet.

Tonight I skipped training, and gave her lots of cuddles, some tinned food. I've lain on my bed with her in my arms, and Raia standing on my shoulder. No problems. She is actively, but cautiously, exploring right now. I had the other cats out on the balcony, and she watched with desire written all over her whiskers. The door was open for her to join us, but she didn't. When Boots wandered back inside she stood on the other side of the cat tunnel, to her full height (but not fuzzed out) and hissed for all her 7 kilo's was worth. Poor Jazz stayed very still. I walked calmly up to Boots, and she just watched me, like she had all the right in the world to scare the newcomer. I corrected her. She is now hiding under the couch in disgrace.

2010-11-26T13:28:00.002+11:00

Sew! A needle pulling thread!

Sorry, its an in joke. IN MAH HEAD!

I'm going a touch loopy these days.

If you can define a bodyslam as a touch.

I'm really struggling these days. Work has been especially stressful. The HR manger despises me. My boss is still shitty with me. I am just a shitty low minion. I have been forcibly reminded of that and it makes me feel like shit. We have had our annual performance reviews the last month. Everyone else finished loong ago. Mine was a few weeks after everybody elses. HR has been interefering with my doctors visits. They want to know how I am being treated. What medication I'm on. What dosage etc. Their reasoning is that they want to know that I am safe to work. They scheduled my review for after they had gotten enough out of my doctor. He cannot give them anything without my consent. It makes me sick. I cannot get away from it.

All of the other shitty low minions had their performance reviews with the boss and the supervisor. Mine was with HR and the boss.

I had a stress migraine instead. Its the worst migraine I've ever had. I could not even open my eyes in a darkened room. I did not want to eat, but was so nauseous that I could barely keep down water. I slept. A lot. I stayed home the day after too. My brain felt loose. Meaning that, if I turned my head too fast, I'd feel my brain clunking around in there. I popped asprin like candy for 2 days. I did the maths while waiting for the sleeping pills to kick in on the second night. The amount of asprin I had consumed would have caused a minimum of 500ml internal bleeding. Not to mention that I bleed easily enough anyway. And my meds strictly statre not to take with anticoagulants, specifically asprin. Asprin inhibits clotting, my meds exascerbate bleeding.

Then I got up and took enough codeine to knock me out for the night. I know its dangerous. And I really don't care. My shrink wants me to stop caring. But I don't think in this way. I had to go to work the next day. So I had to go to sleep.

On the plus side. I have stopped cutting myself. Downside - I've found new ways to self harm. And they leave gigantic bruises that take forever to heal. But at least bruises are easier to explain than cuts. Hey, I'm a klutz remember?

I don't think I will last long in this place. Something has to give, and if it doesn't, then my life is going to get seriously ugly. I hate this disease. Its hard enough to fight with support, but unsupported, its gut wrenching and life threatening.

How to Meltdown in 12 days

2010-11-06T20:48:00.001+11:00

Day 1: Self harming while at work. Stabbing myself with needles out of numbness and frustration. Vomiting from anxiety. Saw Les Miserables in gold class and had a mate stay over that night. I showered.

Day 2: Called in Sick. Spent the day on the couch watching DVDs.

Day 3: Back at work. Snapped at a coworker who has a history of not being able to help anyone, and argues about why does he have to do his job. Constantly. I called him fucking useless. Got dragged into boss' office and torn to shreds. Got told that I had an attitude problem, was argumentative, unhelpful, pushy, didn't see the big picture and didn't do my job. Got sent home, cut myself, showered to wash the blood off, and was catatonic for the rest of the day. I remember sitting on the floor crying, with a scalpel over my wrist, thinking I can't fight this disease anymore, but I didn't know if I could do it. I wasn't sure if 'it' was keep going or slash my wrists.

Day 4: Catatonic

Day 5: Packed my bags and flew back to Vic for a family do. Had to tell my mother wahts going on. Very difficult conversation. Did shower that morning.

WEEKEND
Day 6: Family do. Was nice to see everyone. Slept all arvo, got woken up for a bbq, then home and straight to sleep. No shower.

Day 7: Flew home again. Big hugs from sister as she dropped me off at the airport. Was tired, and got to bed early. But didn't sleep well. Woke up at 1, 3.30 and 5.

WEEKDAYS

Day 8: Called in sick. Couldn't face anyone. Got rung by the boss sometime in the middle of the day and told she expected me to not leave them in the lurch. I did train, and shower.

Day 9: Got taken to HR with the boss. We had a frank discussion, which involved them telling me I was completely out of line. My illness should not account for any behavioural differences. I am not to tell my coworkers if I am having a bad day, because it shows I expect them to deal with my shit. I am to be away if I'm unwell. I am a lowly minion, and am not to ask or tell anyone to do anything. I cut myself and then go watch the Melbourne Cup. I am unresponsive to my workmates when they try to talk to me for the remainder of the afternoon.

Day 10: Bad day. Struggling to even tie up my shoe laces. I don't want to go in, but have important work to do and have been told not to leave them in the lurch. I cry as soon as I get to work. Its tough to do the mindless morning tasks. I find a quiet room, and a scalpel, and cut myself and cry for half an hour, then go to work with blood seeping through my clothes. I am completely unresponsive to everyone, and look forward to my important work because its something I have to do alone, and I get to play with animals. Its the best part of my day, even if it is the most stressful. I sleep on the change room floor instead of going to lunch. I do not train.

Day 11: I call in sick. My coworker begs me to talk to her. I ignore. I am rung by the boss. Something has gone wrong and they don't know what to do. Spent most of the day reading boooks and on facebook. I try not to sleep during the day, but do pass out around 4. I do not shower, I do not train.

Day 12: Feeling much better. Meds seem to be kicking in. Back at work. I aplogised to cowrker for igniring her, and told her that I was under instructions not to burden anyone with my illness. I am still tired, but no need to sleep during the day. I train and I shower.

The moral to the story: Ill people are fucked in the head, and we don't need you screwing around with us. We need people to support and try to understand us. We will come back around. Just be patient.

Untitled

2010-10-27T16:09:00.000+11:00

I hate my life right now. Still fat. Still depressed.

Resolutions

2010-10-01T17:10:00.000+10:00

So. Its no secret I've gained weight. I worked so hard to lose it, and have gained a buttload back. originally my first priority was to deal with my depression, but that's dealt with. So I feel like I can focus on my weight loss again.

This week I made a resolution. I decided no chocolate for a week. And I did exceptionally well. Wed and thurs I had a slip up, a total of 20 chocolate bullets. Not too bad I think. And today, after the resolution had ended... No chocolate at all. Little resolutions work. So, I resolve the following.

I will train at least there times a week. If, for some reason, I cannot do three times a week, I will do FOUR times a week the next week to maker up for it.

I will have 4 morning teas at work that consist of yoghurt and berries, ricotta cookie, or museli slice. I can have a cafe coffee if I need one, but preference for premium instant. I get one free morning tea a month.

Visits to the ice creamery near work... Limited to once a month.

I will have at least one lunch our diner per day that is low carb.

No chocolate at home, but no stressing about if I have it at work either.

Eat outs are to be one per week. Two at the utter max. This is more for financial reasons, but works here too.

Birdies

2010-09-18T22:49:00.001+10:00

Ooh. Lookit. Blogging from my phone.

So. This post is for Ute. I'm pretty sure I've blogged it before, but I feel the need to share it again.

My Dad used to breed budgies for show. He must have had thousands of them over the years. I remember her had two side by side avairies at one stage. Each about 20 or 30m long. One for boys, one for girls. Plus his breeding room. I'm soo used to those little birds. Anyway. He bred all types over the years. Blue, green, grey, yellow, ones with funky hairstyles. In the later years he bred yellow ones. I thought they were boring, but he liked them.

This story is about a little white one he had, when I was about 10. He had a mate who swore black and blue, that If you fed a bird exclusively on beetroot leaves, it would turn red. So he got the beaut idea that if you take a white budgie, you can spray it with red food dye, and get a red bird. So that's what he did. Took a lovely little light grey bird, mixed up a spay bottle of red food colouring, and spray painted the bird. Dried poor birdie, then applied another coat. Repeat until bottle empty.

The next night he took pinkie to the bird show. Everyone there was in on the joke. And it went down rather well.

We had pinkie for about a year after that. Her colour faded over about a month. Her wing tips were the last to go. One night there was a massive wind storm, and the lock on dads aviary came undone. He lost all of his birds from that year, with the exception of one runty little grey thing.

Shame too.he had one bird with excellent potential.

***
Aggro was a bird dad gave to his mum. He was white. The bird. Although dad was white too. Nan wanted one she could teach to talk. Originally, aggro was named kimba, for the white lion. But we found that he was really a she. And true to form, she was aggressive. Hence the name. Shortly after nan and grandpa moved down to live with us, dad re acquired aggro to use as a breeder. and she was a fantastic mum too.

***
Guts was mums bird. He was a mop. A genetic deformity that causes extremely long feathers, and a short life span. he was a brilliant dark blue. Because of his condition, his mother decided to end his life. Which, according to nature, is what is to be done. She should spend her time raising young that would survive, right?

Dad interrupted her. And managed to save the poor bugger. her was a bloody mess. Literally. He had half his scalp chewed off and suffered brain damage. My dad, being the softie that he is, child not being himself to kill the poor fighter. So he saved his life instead. Kept him in a heat box, and hand fed him.

Guts was aptly named. He was always hungry. And he'd eat anything that would fit in his beak. He used to sit on mums shoulder and nibble her ears. He'd get out and run around the floor, shitting everywhere. God he was cheeky. On top of having thee mop defect, as a result of his injury he always had one foot splayed out behind him, and he dragged the wing on the same side.

After a few months, dad took him out to the aviary. We'd go down every afternoon to pay with guts, and another mop that ran around the floor with him. We'd pick him up and carry him on our shoulders. Occasionally, he'd come up and spend the night at the house, nibbling mums ears.

I remember the day he died. I remember mum holding him in her outstretched hand, sobbing. She had always helped dad look after the birds, but guts was the only one she'd ever attached to.

Jeebus H Christ on a pogo stick

2010-08-02T19:28:00.000+10:00

Here is a list of the people who have pissed me off today.

The coworkerS that I caught playing with their phones in a meeting today. Yes, multiples. Sitting side by side. I told one to quit it, and he did. Later, when I told the girl next to him to quit it, he defended her and said it didn't matter. Like hell it fucking doesn't. We're not here to fucking gasbag. I wanna sort shit out and go the fuck home. You having to ask for more info about something that has been clearly explained because you didn't pay attention is not helping the situation.
The 'friend', IRL, who defriended me on facebook. No big drama. I mean, its just facebook. But don't tell me you quite facebook altogether when you've just defriended me and changed your name so that you can't be found.
The friend who has stood me up for breakfasts, lunches and now dinners. Yeppers. For the birthday bonanza she said she'd be there. Then she wasn't. She has a history of not turning up because she can't be bothered. Not just for me, but for dates etc. She doesn't have a phone, so she can't be contacted when she is a no show. Apparently her mum was sick. On her facebook she has made plans with someone else. She still hasn't apologised. Do these people think I'm fucking stupid?
The fuckwit moron who utilises our services at work. Passive aggressive bitch makes our lives difficult. Someone made a mistake. I don't know if it was us or her. But she is blaming us for fucking up the next month's worth of her work. From the wording of the email (that she sent straight to the director of the facility) it would seem that she can't find the instructions that she gave us. I know that those instructions would have been kept my my boss. Lets for one moment ignore ALL the mistakes she's made that have made our lives more difficult...

All of the extra breeding (and killing) we've had to do because she couldn't get her genotypes right.
All of the extra work we had to do looking after animals they didn't want. Then having to kill them, because they didn't tell us they didn't want them.
All of the extra samples we had to take because they couldn't get their genotypes right
The way they give us cull lists when they're massive, so it takes an hour to do, and makes us want to vomit afterwards.
The fact that she CONTINUALLY fucks up her genotypes, and still doesn't know how to do one gene properly. We have done a lot of work to get dirty animals clean, and we don't even know if they're the type they want. So she's wasted someone else's very hard, emotionally rending work. Not only that, we have got a large colony still breeding in special conditions because we don't know if the clean animals are what they want. And when its time for that colony to go, its going to be exceptionally tough on ME. There will be vomiting and possibly self mutilation after that one.

Now, I don't care who made the fucking mistake. If it was her, then she should have kept her trap shut and spoken to the person she gave her instructions to. If it was us, then she should have kept her trap shut and spoken directly to the person who made that mistake. That is the very least that we would have done for her. As it stands, all she has done is pissed us off.

Birthday Bonanza

2010-08-01T19:58:00.000+10:00

PICTURE POST!
In Victoria

Me and Kez

Mali

Butterfly Pronz

Tiger Cubs

IN NSW

Mr Shuffles (Pati Harn)

Luk Chai and Mum

Luk Chai

Diving for its toy

Time Out

2010-07-27T13:10:00.000+10:00

So I'm on holidays at the moment. I'm doing my Birthday Bonanza. I haven't really celebrated my birthday for years, so this is all new to me.

I've road tripped from Sydney to the shithole I used to live in. It is a long trip, but I do love it. Its just me, Clancy the gay silver Astra, my music and a couple of cans of sugar free V. I love the open road and the sunshine on the hills. I have my scheduled stops. Mostly at McDonalds. I don't eat the shit, but they do make coffee and I love to steal their single serve spreads. I can't help it. I grab a handful on the way in, and a handful on the way out, and at the end of the road trip I count them up.

To help me be healthier on the trip, I took my own salads and had a picnic on the way down. Which was great fun. Then I cranked my music and sang along to U2 and Pink. I'm both tone deaf and flat, so I had the music on pretty loud to compensate for that. The guys doing the roadworks were laughing at me. And I waved. Insanity is fun sometimes.

On Saturday I caught the train down to Melbourne. Had lunch with cousins, before heading out to meet my sister in the arvo. She made a lovely roast dinner and I invited a few friends around. We had "Happy Birthday" spelled out in individual letters on my apple/ricotta crumble. And then we played the best game of scrabble with those letters. And put all of those letters on my chest and took pictures. My favourite was 'Hi Bra'.

So we reminisced and chilled out. It was really great to catch up with the girls, really easygoing and lots of laughs.

Sunday was for the Zoo. I have to say, I do like Taronga zoo, but Melb just shits all over it. Bigger enclosures, better designs and more things for them to do in them. And a much wider range of animals. More monkeys, in a specialised treetop walkthrough. Which was a highlight for me, because I came face to face with a female Lar Gibbon. She was hanging up against the glass looking back at the visitors, when she spotted me and swung over to sit right in front of me. Then she picked at her ass and nibbled her fingers, which I won't let detract from the moment. She was there for about 3 or 4 minutes, before she spotted another person and swung on to see him. Very cool.

Melb Zoo also has Tiger cubs, and an elephant calf too. I think the elephant enclosure is the one place that Taronga gets one up on Melb.

Monday (yesterday) was a train trip back to the shithole. Where I was in on Dad's wedding plans to his current partner. Awkward much? Then grocery shopping with Mum. We had a picnic style dinner with two friends from high school and my oldest mate brought her daughter along. More reminiscing and much more laughter. Especially when we realised that Mum had fed the kid an energy drink at 8pm.

At the moment its about 1 pm. I'm still in my pyjamas. *smug* Tonight is dinner with Dad and another mate from high school. Then tomorrow is my b'day. I don't have anything planned really. Lunch out with Mum, then a movie I guess. There will be shopping as well. I can't come home without going to the factory sales.

Photos will come when I get home.

Boredom

2010-07-11T19:22:00.000+10:00

Ok. I'm epically fucking bored right around now. Sunday night. I've cleaned. I've cooked as much as one can with the limits on fresh veges that I've got. Payday approaches.

But that's not what I'm online to write about.

I had a shrink visit this week. No biggie. I took the day off to chillax afterwards. Did a bit of shopping and texted the booty call. He said he'd be catching up with me, before he started work in the afternoon, but after his meeting finished.

I messaged him that I'd be home around midday. Well, I messaged him lots of other things, but I choose not to post them here. They're kind of irrelevant. My train got in a little late. I was hungry, so I decided to grab a sweet tea to consume on the way home. I mean, I thought he was going to be there around 12, it was 12 already, and I had to shower, shave and at least tidy up a little. I really didn't have time to chew.

I was contemplating my drink as I was walking home. The sugared juice of a root vegetable with balls of tapioca starch at the bottom. And it was going down so well. Until I bumped into one of my trainers.

Oh. The *shame*.

When I saw him I just stopped. I knew I'd been busted and he knew I wasn't consuming anything that was good. He was very nice about it. And I was lucky it wasn't Simon. He would have ripped it out of my hands, thrown it in the bin and yelled at me. Irrelevant of the fact that we were in the middle of a shopping centre.

Of course, the next time I went to training I got in trouble. We were made to do hill sprints. Which I took with good grace and lots of laughs.

But I was kind of lucky to get caught. Its really highlighted to me the fact that, while I considered how the drink fit the convenience I was after, I didn't think about it. I really need to start doing that again.

Oh. And for the booty call. He never made it. *le sigh* I had a cup of carbs for nothing.

This weeks weight 91.5kg.

Painless

2010-07-06T13:05:00.004+10:00

Through early morning fog I see
visions of the things to be
the pains that are withheld for me
I realize and I can see...
[REFRAIN]:
that suicide is painless
it brings on many changes
and I can take or leave it if I please.
I try to find a way to make
all our little joys relate
without that ever-present hate
but now I know that it's too late, and...
[REFRAIN]
The game of life is hard to play
I'm gonna lose it anyway
The losing card I'll someday lay
so this is all I have to say.
[REFRAIN]
The only way to win is cheat
And lay it down before I'm beat
and to another give my seat
for that's the only painless feat.
[REFRAIN]
The sword of time will pierce our skins
It doesn't hurt when it begins
But as it works its way on in
The pain grows stronger...watch it grin, but...
[REFRAIN]
A brave man once requested me
to answer questions that are key
is it to be or not to be
and I replied 'oh why ask me?'
[REFRAIN]
'Cause suicide is painless
it brings on many changes
and I can take or leave it if I please.
...and you can do the same thing if you please.

So I’ve been down pretty low in my life. I first battled depression when I was about 12. From 12 to about 16. Fuck. That sounds like a looong time. And it was. A very long, dark time. Even now I bear the scars of that period. Both emotionally and physically. I attempted suicide on numerous occasions. Obviously, none of which were successful. Some were cries for help, others were more serious.

One thing I do know from that period, is that if I ever got that low again, I would not bother to try to get through it. I have lived, and loved. I’ve travelled and journeyed, laughed and cried. But honestly, it was not worth it. That struggle, every day, to get up, to take my next breath… Just to do all of that.

Really. Not worth it.

I have gotten pretty low over the last few weeks. Low enough to really remember that period of my life, and how much it scares and scars me. And I have this to say.

Suicide is NOT painless. It is the most difficult thing to do. To even seriously consider it. I cannot explain. But I will try.

I think of the people I love. And of how much they will miss me, and how much they will hurt. And it tears me up. I cry until it feels my soul will bleed. For hours. I do love these people, and I do not want to cause them suffering.

So in the end, I do not end myself, because I do not think that I am worth the bother that people will go through.

The last few weeks I've been taking a break from life, while my meds readjusted. The last post I wrote, I was at my lowest the day before. That day that I went to work, when I really should have stayed in bed. I was so bad, that I even warned a few people how bad I was. I think that helped.

I took a looong break from training too. About 3 weeks. Which, for me, is an eternity. I wanted to go back last Monday, but I couldn’t find the group, and I had a panic attack and left. I’m kind of glad I did.

I did not go back at all last week. It was a difficult week at work, and while I felt ok to do it all, I was physically exhausted by the end of the day.

I went back to training tonight, and lordy did I miss it. But, most importantly to me right now, they did miss me too. They were not even people that I ‘d thought of as missing me.

I was pleasantly surprised too. During the 3 weeks of depression, I did not train. I did eat comfort food. And Pizza *gasp*. Once. And I always had access to chocolate. At work. And put on less than 1kg. Not bad. I think it helps that I have an intolerance to greasy and processed sugary foods. And this time around, my favourite comfort food was fresh fruit salad with greek yoghurt. Yummeh.

Dust free!

2010-06-27T18:38:00.001+10:00

So, I have dusted off the old blog. Revamped it. How do you like my layout? I find it to be quite fitting to the new tone of the blog. I think it will stay a while.

I've had a very quiet, long weekend. I was struggling on Thursday. Got to work in the morning, completely overwhelmed. Sat in the change room with the lights off and listen to Taylor Swift's 'White Horse' and cried a little.

Was very lethargic all day. We had a full building afternoon tea, and I elected not to go. I wanted to sit and watch the mice play instead. I had just changed a small room, and was watching the mums settle down with their babies again. They have quite big litters you know. And the mums were spread out over their pups, like a big blanket of food. The pups were having a drink, nudging and pushing the mum, and she's just asleep through it all. One pup came up to its mum, and started sucking on her face. Sooo cute. It startled mum awake, and she washed the pup a bit, and went back to sleep. The pup curled into mum, and nibbled on her chin instead. Muchly cute. I'm glad I went in on Thursday, just for that moment.

Friday was a different story. My alarm went off. I snoozed it. Again. And again. And again. Finally I rang in sick. I couldn't be bothered getting out of bed. I slept through til 2pm. Best thing ever. I felt so much better. Then I headed out to get a doc's certificate. Easiest thing ever. All I have to do is tell them that I have depression, my medication is being adjusted, and I'm not doing well. No questions asked. Well, one question. 'How long do you want?'

I did a bit of cooking too. Mum likes it when I do that. 'Forward planning' she calls it. Made several batches of low carb lasagne, and froze some meatballs. I like to have heat and eat in the freezer, for when cooking is too much, or for when I don't have time to cook. They come in handy after training too. I can chuck something in the oven, go have a shower, and when I'm clean, dinner's ready.

Saturday was chilling at home. Washed my sheets and remade my bed. I fucking love my bed right now, but it deserves a post all of its own. And sent dirty texts to my booty call.

Today I cooked as well. I made cookies. Chocolate cookies with honeycomb chunks, and chocolate with trail mix. And florentines. My trainer 'disliked' that on facebook. I'm quite happy to say that I made ricotta balls first, which I ate, and then the cookies had no appeal. Yay me!

I am wearing sweat pants at the moment. Most of my jeans do not fit, and the ones that do are on the line. I hate that. But, being realistic, I cannot focus on my weight right now. I need to work on my depression. The good news is, I go through massive stages of not eating, so I guess that makes up for the crap that I consume. Right?

Oh, and I've started knitting to. Something to keep my hands busy. Plus, the cats enjoy it.

Back Again?

2010-06-25T22:07:00.000+10:00

Dear Readers.

I am very, very sorry about my recent blogging performance. I stopped this blog to do a weight loss blog, lost a heap of weight, put even more back on, then stopped that one too.

I have been very sick lately. After the breakdown that I had in January, I am now under psychiatric care. I am medicated. I am having another breakdown. Last week I rang my psych, and had an impromptu visit. He doubled my meds. I did not get out of bed until 2pm today. From now on, this will be new type of blog. It will be about weight loss, and depression. It will be more serious, but it will also have those moments of light hearted insanity that you are all used to.

So stick around, over the next few days I aim to dust off this old blog, revamp it, and start posting again.

Kind Regards

Phish

Blog Fail

2010-03-17T20:04:00.001+11:00

Optional?

2010-01-22T20:33:00.002+11:00

So. This blog is named Sanity Optional. It has been so since its conception on 23rd May, 2005. But right now, sanity is most definitely not optional.

As most regular readers are well aware, I have Bipolar. Well, I think I do. I've never been diagnosed. I have my ups and downs, my ins and outs.I've always managed to ride out the bad periods, and control it (to some extent) with diet, exercise, limted alcohol intake and a good routine. I try to get plenty of sleep, but thats a bit hard. Ever since I as 16 I've woken up at 3.30 am. I'm not sure why. And over the years its been added to by a 1am and a 5am wake up. Its so consistent I could literally set my clock by it.

Anyway. For the past few weeks I've been doing the up-down, round and round thing. Its sucked. to put it minorly. But it all came to a head about a week ago.

For the uninitiated, I work with animals. Its a great job, but it can be quite emotionally challenging at times too. I had a group of animals that were destined to die, and we needed some blood from them. The easiest way to take the quantity of blood we needed, is to anaesthetise the animal, take the blood from the heart, and kill it immediately. No muss, no fuss. And its something I've done lots of times before. Well, this time it failed. For some reason, they would not take to the anaesthetic. Every time I got the needle in, they'd move, or kick, or wriggle. I hated it. No matter what angle I tried, no matter how I held the needle, how I supported the head (so the gas was unobstructed), they moved. I tried aspect in every combination. Still, they moved. This went on for 3 hours. I was a mess by the end of it.

I chucked the worlds biggest tanty. I was screaming and swearing and crying. I ended up yelling at my coworkers to finish the job, and literally running out of the facility. I sat in the change rooms, door shut, lights off, in the corner. I cried, for I don't know how long. Not little weepy bits, but gut wrenching, wracking sobs. I ended up making myself feel sick, so I tried to vomit for about 10 minutes more. To no avail. All I could do was spit up something that tasted like vinegar.

Eventually I got changed into a fresh uniform. I was so wrecked I could no longer bear to wear the other one, even though there was nothing really wrong with it. I slunk back into the facility and apologised to some people that I'd yelled at, and went and hid somewhere quiet, isolated and dark.

Later that day, my boss came to see me, and asked me up to HR. I nearly shat myself, but I did end up crying again. Before I'd even gone anywhere. I headed up and had the talk. You can tell how it would have gone. Basically they asked me how I thought they would be feeling about what happened. I replied (very honestly) that, if it was anything like how I felt, they'd be acutely embarrassed.

*Insert more tears here*

So the next question went along the lines of 'is there something going on?' To which I started with the gut wrenching cries again. If I had've kept breathing, I would have been absolutely hysterical. As it was, we were in an office in the middle of admin and, despite my earlier outburst, I still didn't want everybody knowing I was sick.

I told my boss I had bipolar and it hasn't been playing nice. Both her and the HR lady were great about it. Very supportive. They told me to go home immediately after the interview, and take the next day off if I wanted to.

I ended up going straight to Gloria jeans for a gigantic muffin and a coffee. I dithered about a little, before swinging past the doctors to ask about their mental health care. Its bulk billed (meaning I don't have to pay any of it), but I'd have to get a referral first, and it would be a half hour wait to see a doctor. I declined.

Mum rang me that night. Since she works in the mental health field, she knew what was going on. She was asking me questions about my sleep habits, spending, eating, exercise, routine and thoughts. She ended up deciding that I wasn't a danger to myself, but she's still worried, and has been calling pretty much every night to see how I am.

I did go back to see the doctor on Friday though. Went up to the counter and asked if there was a doctor who would be best to talk to about mental health problems. Tweedle dum and Tweedle dummer just suggested I wait for the next doctor. I wasn't too keen on that idea, since it was a bulk billing medical centre and about half of my experiences with doctors are to get me in, sign the sheet (so they can get paid) and get me out.

I lucked out though. I got a great lady doctor, and told her about what had happened. She asked the same questions that Mum did. We talked about keeping to a routine, eating right, sleeping better etc. She told me to really limit my spending. Apparently thats a big problem with bipolar peeps. And she gave me a mental health crisis line that I can call any time I need to. We discussed the panic attacks I'd been having. And we discussed my sleep patterns too. I asked if she could give me anything to help me sleep, and she said no. She didn't want to prescribe me with anything because she didn't want to be messing with drugs and such, when I was likely to end up on something. She did give me a natural remedy that I could try.

Out to the pharmacy, I asked about that particular remedy. The pharmacist recommended something else, but they didn't have it in stock. I went to another place. That pharmacist (c*nt) said herbal remedies were all a bunch of bollocks, and without treating the underlying problem, nothing would work. Another place, another pharmacist, recommended the same as the first. By this stage I'd spent about an hour just looking at sleep aids, so I had an idea of what to look for, and had already come to that conclusion. I managed to price shop around, and found it for $10 less than most other places.

I have made an appointment with the psychiatrist for the end of March. It is quite a while away, but I should be ok. I have boot camp going on at the moment, and I'm muchly excited about it. Training with the best trainers I know, and some fantastic people. Its outdoors, and something different each night. So it will keep me quite happy and interested for a bit. The sleep tablets are starting to work. On the first night I skipped the 1am wake up. And just two nights ago, I slept straight through til 5.30. Its not much, but its something. I know I'm likely to be on these for quite a while. I have 10 years of fucked up sleep to retrain my brain from.

2010-01-14T21:07:00.001+11:00

:(

Bad day today. Going to docs tomorrow. Need help.

Break

2010-01-05T20:27:00.005+11:00

I've had enough. Enough of people, noise, crowds, lonliness, smells. I've had enough. I need a break. So I went away for a weekend. Hightailed it to the mountains.

Straight after work on Friday (yes, I had to work new years day) I headed out to the mountains. I stopped at Katoomba for lunch. Well, I tried to anyway. The place I stopped at had none of the staff turn up, and they were only doing breakfast. After a 25 minute wait for service, I left and stopped further up the road, at Mount Victoria, then headed further afield to my stay at Hampton.

I arrived around 3pm, settled in to read magazines and call people. The room wasn't much. But for $50 a night, it was better than I expected. 2 beds , a bar fridge, a TV, a kettle, a shower and a toilet. And only a very few cockroaches. I picked the bed that was about 2 inches higher, and up against the window. It was like sleeping on a wooden board, and I didn't realise until the morning that I left that the other was softer. Still, it was quiet, and the bed was up against the window, so sleeping was ok.

I spent about an hour on the phone, calling family. Just for a chat. Made myself a coffee and just chilled out.

I went up to the bar for dinner that first night. Selected the seafood basket, with salad instead of chips. I got deep fried calamari rings, a battered and fried crab stick, crumbed and fried prawn cocktails, and fish nuggets (that resembled peni)... you guessed it, Fried. And the salad was simply chopped up iceberg lettuce, toomato and cucumber. Ah well, country food.

I did strike up a conversation with some of the locals, and got some good pointers on places to go to get photos. Which led to this particular beauty the next day.

I spent the night watching TV and doping puzzles in magazines. I had nothing to do, so I did a full body moisturise after my shower. I never do that! I never have the time. And I did face moisturising both morning and night too. Something else I never get to do.

The next day (Saturday) I headed out to the Jenolan Caves. I love this place, but think I've had enough of it to last me a while. I parked up on the furthest car park and went for a walk up the mountain. 5 steps in and I'm huffing and puffing. But I quickly warmed up, and it was so worth it.

Then had to trek all the way back down. Halfway, I got distracted, and went up these.

Which, as it turned out, led over the great gaping maw you saw earlier. You can see the lookout where the photo was taken in this?

Can't see it? Here's a zoomed shot...

Half an hour later I arrived at the bottom of the trek. Sweaty and puffing. Headed into the ticket office and went to purchase my passes for the cave tours. Only to be told that the tour I really, really wanted to do was sold out. *sigh* So I decided to head out to Oberon at the end of the day instead.

This in mind, I did 2 tours of some rather stunning caves, a little bushwalking, had a sandwich, and just chilled out. trust me when I say, this was difficult to limit myself to puttin up just 5 photos here. If you want to check out more, they're on farcebook.

I jumped in the car mid-afternoon and headed out in the direction (I prayed) of Oberon. And, my what a hick town that was. I love country people. Headed to a cafe for a cappuccino in a chipped mug. Did some more puzzles. Went for a wander up the main street, and back down. Went into both supermarkets, bought some chocolate. Walked up the main street, and back down again. Checked out the menu's at the pub and the pizza joint. Walked up the main street, and back down again. Rang my sister. Got her to google restaurants in Oberon, and discovered that the RSL was a little further down the road. The menu there was much better. I ended up picking the lamb cutlets with tomato and onion gravy and seasonal vegetables.

What I got was 2 lamb cutlets, crumbed and deep fried, with a random rasher of bacon draped across them, dropped on top of bacon/cheese mashed potato, and smothered in gravy. The vegetables were peas, carrot and cauliflower, with the tiniest spoonful of gluggy cheese sauce. With a little effort, that could have been an awesome meal! What is it with country people and their need to deep fry shit?

That night I headed back to the motel, settled in with my magazine and watched tv.

Next morning was check out time. Packed my shit, said goodbye to the guys at the hotel, and hit the road. Normally a 2 and a half hour drive, I took 5 and a half to get home. I stopped everywhere I'd ever wanted to. Every place I'd ever gone 'that could be interesting' but kept going past, this time I stopped.

I visited several historic sights, went to a few lookouts of the mountains, had coffee and cake at Katoomba and stopped for lunch at Hazelbrook. At each stop I pulled out my magazine and sat there for at least half an hour after I'd finished eating. On my trawl through Katoomba, I managed to get some really nice shots of the gardens in the rain.

It was lovely, but altogether too short. Now I'm tired, and my soul hurts again.

Best wishes to all

2009-12-24T19:07:00.002+11:00

So I guess its that time of year again. Time to look back, reflect, take stock, and move on. Kind of like the end of a bad break up.

Looking back
So I had 4 resolutions this year
1) Lose wiehgt - WIN!
2) Be the best I can at my job - win.
3) more sex - fail.
4) have a threesome - fail.
Not really that bad.

Reflecting
2009 was a tough year for me. Aside from the fact that Dad almost died... yeah, that's about all that fucked it up for me. That was a particularly tough time. I count my blessings though. Dad came out of the coma after 2 weeks, made a speedy recovery and is quite well these days. He does have some aspect of brain damage, but it does not show. At all. He is back to work. The only thing is that he has a limp. Probably because he went in for knee reconstruction surgery. Aside from that he has slowed down a bit. He has difficulty getting through a 40 hour work week. And he has moved to a smaller place, because his big place, with big garden, was too much for him.

For me, this really changed my perspective on life. I never wanted kids before that. But when Dad was dying, all I could think was 'he's never had grandkids'. Its taught me that life is short. And you have to make the most of the moment that you have. You can hear it all you want, but until you actually live it, it might not sink in.

The other big aspect of 2009 was the 12 week challenge. Which I absolutely nailed!!! Met some awesome people, had fun, and really pushed my boundaries. And then it ended, and I ate, and put about half of it back on. *sigh* But, oddly enough, I'm not worried. I have a higher respect for my body nowdays. I am in no rush to lose it all either. I am back on track with eating right, and I still love to exercise, so I will lose it in time. I just want to fit back into my post-challenge jeans.

Taking stock
This year has changed me. It was rough, and tough. But I feel like I am a better person because of it. Not only was there a psychological change, but a physical one to match it.

Moving on
Next year I have different resolutions.
1) Maintain healthy lifestyle. This includes losing the last few kilo's, but its more about being fit and healthy, making smart choices, eating right and learning to love my body, just the way it is.
2) Manage finances a bit better. Ideally I'd like to pay off a reasonable sum off the credit card, and cut the limit as I do so. I'm not aiming to pay it off. I don't think that is a reachable goal, but I'd like to get into a smarter way of thinking about money.
3) Dating. Never really gotten into this one, so its a new challenge for me.

My New Years will be quiet. I am going to a dance thing nearby with the guys from my dance class. It finishes early, which is kinda ok with me. I have to work the next day. Boo to that. But I am off tomorrow afternoon, tripping out to the mountains, by myself, for some well deserved peace and quiet. I'll be going to the Jenolan caves on Saturday, and spending the full day out there. I can't afford to go away, but I can't afford not to at the moment either. I am finding myself frustrated and need some space. Need fresh air, need to see the stars. And I need noone around to talk to me endlessly.

See you all in the New Year.

I never claimed to be sane

2009-12-23T21:50:00.001+11:00

Today, whilst cleaning at work, I randomly popped out with 'Hunka Hunka burning love.'

I was alone, not even talking to myself, and that came out.

I know I'm weird, but its not often I make myself go WTF?!?

True Phishy Style

2009-12-18T08:47:00.003+11:00

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

2009-12-14T20:24:00.003+11:00

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.

2009-12-08T20:34:00.004+11:00

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.

2009-06-15T18:48:00.002+10:00

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?

Updatage

2009-05-19T14:55:00.004+10:00

So its been 2 weeks since the last post. Things are looking reasonably good. But I'll give the run down as things happened.

I was down here for 4 days before I headed back to Sydney. I wasn't really ready to go, but my uncle had to head back, and I'd gotten a ride with him, so I kind of had to. Plus Dad was reasonably stable, but still constantly sedated. And I needed to get back to some sort of routine to keep me as sane as possible.

Now, sane as possible really means functional. I stopped eating, and when I did eat it was a continual thing. Then I'd get nauseous and throw it all up again. I'd get panic attacks, want to sleep all the time if I wasn't working, and my libido has disappeared. My first day back at work was really rough. I was there for a week and for the remainder of the time, I was fixing simple mistakes I'd made on that first day back.

Dad had an MRI on Monday or Tuesday. It showed some damage to the area that controls motor control, cognition, speech, emotions, and learning.

On Wednesday the doctors asked permission to do a tracheostomy. This was done on Thursday, and he was left under sedation for the remainder of the day.

On Friday they let him come out from sedation. And he's been up ever since. I found out mid-morning and immediately arranged to head down for the whole of the next (which is really this) week. I was a bit scared because he seemed unresponsive. And we didn't know if it was because of the coma or the brain damage.

I got in Saturday night and went straight to the hospital. I felt bad because I was shocked and relieved at the improvement, and I started crying, and Dad seemed upset. He seemed to have difficulty focusing, and I didn't know how long that would last for, or if it would ever go away.

Since then he's been coming ahead in leaps and bounds. He still has the trach tube in, so can't really talk. But he did laugh at the fact that I have to wait til payday to be able to afford the trip back. He spoke to me today through the trach tube. I asked him how he was and he said 'yeah, good'. Lying bugger. I don't know how he'll go with recovery. He seems very weak, and he is in pain, serious pain. But he is moving around and lifting his ams. The nurse was amazed at how he's doing. The speech patholigist was there today, doing tests on his swallowing reflex. He may be able to have solid food this afternoon. Well, as solid as squishy processed fruit gets.

Its a relief to know that even though he's going to do it tough, he's still the same person inside. Pretty good to see it, considering the news I got 2 weeks ago.

****FURTHER UPDATAGE**** Dad got moved into rehab today. He's out of hospital wards altogether. woot!

Living Horror

2009-05-06T18:44:00.005+10:00

The past few days have been hell on an epic scale. Dad's in ICU. He went in for a routine surgery. A knee reconstruction. He's had one before, with no complications. This time he had epic complications. At 5am yesterday, he was found not breathing, with a blood pressure so low it could barely register. Doctors took 45 minutes to resuscitate him. During that time he vomited and inhaled quite a lot of it. When they managed to stabilise him they called his partner and told her to bring all of the family in.

I got a call on my way to work. Not knowing how bad it was, I waited to hear an assessment from my sister. She rang at 9.20 and told me to come straight away. They didn't know if he'd survive the day. I literally dropped what I was doing and left. I said goodbye to my direct superior, got changed and literally ran out the door. I rang the head of my department as I headed towards the train station.

11 hours of solid, gut wrenching travel ensued. With short breaks to pack, pee and eat a sandwich. I lost it packing my black dress. Absolutely chucked a foot stamping crying tanty. My Dad's only 60. He had his birthday last September. He didn't have grandkids. I'm 25. Too young to bury my dad.

I lost it driving to Canberra to meet my uncle. Remembering how I'd thought to call him on Sunday after the gym, but decided to do it later. Then remembering how I'd received a text from him on Monday telling me he was having surgery, and deciding to call him that night. Now it was Tuesday and I didn't know if I'd ever get to talk to him again. I was crying so hard that I could barely keep my eyes open, but I kept driving. I could not stop. I was well over the speed limit, but I didn't care. If I got a fine, but got home quicker, it would have been worth it. But even if I got pulled over I was reasonably sure I could cry my way out of it.

I lost it when I met my uncle. First family hug since hearing the news. My first words were 'I can't believe this is happening. It was all so fast. We drove down together.

He was still with us when we got to the hospital. I lost it when the doc explained what had happened. It seemed the immediate threat to his life had passed. But they didn't know how long he'd been without oxygen. And because it took so long to stabilise him, there was a 'possibility, more likely a probability' that he'd have brain impairment. They had no idea as to the extent. And his lungs weren't working properly, so his blood oxygen levels weren't high enough to support repair of any areas that had been affected.

This morning he was pretty much the same. But they did lighten his sedation enough to do some quick neuro checks. He can nod 'yes' and shake head 'no'. He can twitch his toes and squeeze hands when asked. We don't know if he can speak. He is still intubated. He remains on maximum life support, heavily sedated. They won't know about his brain function until they can take him to do brain scans, and right now he's too unstable to attempt to put him on a portable ventilator to take him to the scan.

We've been at the hospital all day. The past 2 days feel like a lifetime. Mum's tiny 3 bedroom house is housing 5 people. I'm sharing a bed with Mum and she's a snoring bed/blanket hog. Tonight I'm going to sleep on the floor. I'm tired. Emotionally drained and in need of a good cry and a very long sleep. I don't know if I can update here, but Kez can update in comments.

Do me a favour guys. If your parents are still around, give them a big hug for me. If they're too far away, please call them. They won't be here forever.

I'm baaack.

2009-04-28T18:15:00.002+10:00

So I'm a dirty, dirty liar. I really was going to give up blogging, but this lettle juicy nugget was waaay to gold to leave alone.

I met someone. On findafuck. We'd spent about 3 weeks talking, emailing, texting, chatting. It was full on, all the time. We clicked. I liked him, he liked me. We had had cybersex. The tension was rife.

It took about 2 weeks to arrange a meet. Finally one night I was home, we wasn't busy. He came over.

And there is a whole world of problems that have arisen. All was going well, having heaps of fun, getting hot and heavy. Clothes come off. And nothing.

He couldn't get it up!

He was embarrassed. I took it in my stride. I mean, it happens. He put his clothes on and fled. I thought it could have been me. I mean, he was into me until the clothes came off.

I gave it a few days and sent him a message telling him I still enjoyed hanging out, and asking if he'd be interested in trying again. His response: yeah it was fun, but we didn't really 'click' after the movie.

WTF?!?

We didn't click? We didn't click sexually?!? How does he know we didn't click sexually? We didn't have sex!!!

So, if you don't have a comment on the above situation, I have to ask...

What's your biggest sex disaster?

Oh FFS!

2009-04-18T12:08:00.002+10:00

10 comments? I post 2 pics of my naked boobs and I only get 10 fucking comments? Jeezus. If I'm that bad a blogger I may as well quit.

Cya.

In the abscence of a real post...

2009-04-14T22:30:00.003+10:00

I GIVE YOU BOOBS!

Tell me how much you love me.

The week that was...

2009-03-28T15:09:00.004+11:00

OMG. I had the biggest week. And no way to communicate with anyone. Boo to that.

It all began on Monday. Funny how the week starts on a Monday. Well, I'd gotten up the nerve to finally ask that guy if he'd be interested in a little fun. Casual only. He declined. Oh noes! The thing is, we've still been hanging out and having loads of fun as is. Strange much?

So on Monday on the way home, I place a 'call' to SR. Hey, gotta scratch that itch!
And conversation ensues. By the time the conversation ended I'd managed to sign myself up for some fun time with him. And one of his mates. And a girl that they know. Woot!

I get home on Monday, and head out to the gym. I get home, tired as all hell, and turn on my computer. To discover it doesn't turn on. SHIIIITT.

And I have no tv reception.

Repeat.

SHIIIIIT.

Consulting with IT at work, we discovered that the hard drive was most likely fried. I will be up for a new computer, oh, about a week ago. The work IT dude was really helpful, offering to fix it for me if I bought the thing in to him. But they're swamped, and I don't want to create extra work for them. Plus I had some videos of a *hem* adult nature on there that I really didn't want him to find. Especially since one of them is obviously a home vid. SHIIIIITTT.

Repeat.

SHIIIIITTT.

Rocking up at work on Wednesday I discover one of my best mates has broken up with his fiance. Poor bastard. He's flat out cuz his work buddy is away for 2 weeks and its a big week for him this week. Another mate of mine has lost his license and is in extreme financial difficulty, and was paid $150 less in this weeks pay, because of a stuff upo a month earlier, and withour consultation. Myself - I had the direct debit taken out of my account 2 days prior to being paid, and got absolutely slammed with a dishonour fee of $45.

Yeah, Wednesday was pretty shit.

I fixed my problem on Thursday. And Friday was pretty quiet. But its been a big few days, and you can probably expect me to not really be 'here' until I get my new computer. I'm working on a friends laptop, and I don't think I'l really be able to make it 'mine'.

On the plus side, I can now watch porn, on the net, in my bedroom! Huzzah!

tied

2009-03-23T22:10:00.002+11:00

something happened that i don't want to blog, but probably should, to clear my head.

And something happened that i want to blog, but can't. Not yet anyways.

Not that it matters. My computer has shat itself, so no internet until i get it back. Or a new one. I'm still available (in limited capacity) on facebook.

Never TMI!

2009-03-16T18:43:00.002+11:00

I'd like to rant, but I'm sure you guys will find this one to be highly entertaining. As Kez said. Its right up my 'alley'.

1. Is there anyone of your friends that you would ever consider having sex with?
Yes. There are several. Mostly the guy at work but he's giving me the shits.

2. Sex in the morning, afternoon or night?
If I'm awake I'm up for it. Mmm. I love a nice, rough, goodnight shag to send me off to sleep. But then again, a nice slow fuck to wake you up does put a smile on your face...

3. What side of the bed do you sleep on?
Whichever side the cats haven't claimed yet.

4. Have you ever taken your clothes off for money?
I've actually been offered. Several times. I rejected.

5. Have you ever had sex in the shower or the bath?
Um. I usually use the shower to beign heating things up, or to clean up afterwards. Not really for teh sexin in the shower. I'm worried that I'd fall over an injure myself. Which is actually pretty likely, knowing me.

6. Do you watch/read pornography?
Yes. I also make my own too. Of both types...

7.Do you want someone aggressive or passive in bed?
AGGRESSIVE! Hair pulling, biting, gruntingly agressive. Yep. WANT!

8. Do you love someone on your blogroll?
Its not them its me. I like them, but I just want to read other people too.

9. Would you choose love or money?
How sex. I'd chose hot, hotsex.

10. Your top three favorite kinks in bed?
Um. Roughness. Porn. Toys.

11. Has anyone ever gone beyond your personal line of respect sexually?
No. My personal line has not been discovered yet.

12. Where is the most romantic place you have had sex?
Romantic? I don't really do romance. I've done the carpark after a movie across the road from my place. We couldn't wait.

13. Where is the weirdest place you have had sex?
In the ass on my roomies couch.

14. Have you ever been caught having sex?
Yep. In the carpark after a movie. Someone drove by. I laughed and kept going.

15. Ever been to a bar just to get sex?
Yes, but I couldn't go through with it. I walked in there and remembered mum's wise words 'Don't pick that up, you don't know where its been.'

16. Ever been picked up in a bar?
Yes. I regretted it. I was blind. The guy was ugly and creepy, and I got pash rash.

17. Have you ever kissed or had sex with someone of the same sex?
Yes, actually I have. Us girls used to kiss each other at uni to tease the guys.

18. Had sex in a movie theater?
No penetration.

20. Had sex in a bathroom?
Yep. My own of course, in front of the mirror. HOT!

21. Have you ever had sex at work?
No. And I never would. Unless it was some out-of-the-way cleaning closet that no one would ever go into.

22. Bought something from an adult store?
Um. Do I have to answer that one? I have a whole bedside that is dedicated to toys and p

23. Do you own any sex toys?
Um. Again, yes.

24. Does anyone have naughty pics of you or are you on film?
Unfortunately yes. I hate it.

25. Have you ever had sex with someone and called them the wrong name?
Only 'God'.

26. Do you think oral sex constitutes as a form of intercourse?
Sort of. In the same way that teal could be considered green. It can really go either way.

27. What's your favorite sexual position?
The one where I have penis in me. Ummm. My all time fave is when I'm lying on my stomach and he enters me from behind, with my legs together. Instant.Orgasm.

28. What's your favorite sex act?
Sex.

29. Have you ever had sex with more than one person at a time?
Not yet. But I still have 9 months to take that New Years resolution to bed with me.

Purdy...

2009-03-14T19:49:00.002+11:00

Damn.

2009-03-09T19:23:00.001+11:00

Sometimes, just sometimes, you know something, but are unwilling to acknowledge it. Sometimes, just sometimes, someone else has to tell you the most bloody obvious thing to make you realise it.

Kez, you're right. I'm being played.

And I really don't fucking like it.

Tagged

2009-03-09T15:50:00.000+11:00

So Ben tagged me. Apparently I don't post enough.

1. Would you do crystal meth if it was legalized?

Nope. Not into drugs

2. Abortion: for or against? I only support abortion when its in the interests of the spawn. (i.e if child cannot be raised properly).

3. Would the country fall if there was a woman president? Question = irrelevant. We don't have presidents.

4. Do you believe in the death penalty?

I'm pretty sure it exists.

5. Do you wish marijuana would be legalized already?

Doesn't matter to me. Don't smoke it.

6. Do you believe in God?

Yes

7. Do you think same sex marriage should be legalized?
And why should it not be?

8. Do you think its wrong that so many Hispanics are moving to the USA?

I think there aren't enough here.

9. A 12 year old girl has a baby... should she keep it?
If she's had the child then obviously its too late for an abortion

10. Should the alcohol drinking age be lowered to 18?

That's the legal age. Here most people start when they are about 12.

11. Should the war in Iraq be called off?

At some stage everything ends

12. Assisted suicide is illegal... do you agree?

I call it euthanasia

13. Do you believe in spanking your children?

I'd spank my partner.

14. Would you burn an American flag for a million dollars?

Yep. Everyone has their price and that's mine.

15. Your mother is declared innocent after murdering her 5 children in a temporary insanity case... what do you think?

Well, clearly I'm dead in this scenario, so no thinking for me.

Still alive.

2009-03-06T20:41:00.002+11:00

God I am so over blogging right now. Can you tell? My lack of enthusiasm is... apathetic. Work is full on. I do still love it, but I've had the most hectic week. I'm actually glad that I'm rostered to work tomorrow. I have so many little jobs to catch up on.

I'm still at the gym 4 times a week. I still try to go 5, but it never really happens. PT is happening once a week. And I adore it. My trainer is so awesome.

And I'm trying to squeeze in dancing and a social life. Its a tad crazy. I'm going to Mardi Gras tomorrow. I'm not expecting it to be a big one, but it should be pretty cool. And then I'm going to the Jenolan Caves the next week. So I should have some pretty amazing photo's coming up in the next few weeks. And that's all I can promise right now...

No Bounds

2009-02-27T17:59:00.004+11:00

My retardedness knows no bounds. At the most inopportune times, it will rear its highly amusing head, and leave me lying on the ground.

1) Tip for the ladies out there... When you're wearing mascara, DO NOT RUB YOUR EYES no matter how itchy they are. Observe. This one didn't happen in front of anyone.

2) I did a high ropes course last weekend. But in the Aussie bush. Heaps of fun. But I was a sore mofo the next day.

3) I just won 2 gift cards for a photography session. Yay me!!!

4) How cute are these 2?

5) I fell over again today. In front of a car. Its ok, apart from a bruised ego I sustained no injuries. Are you guys getting sick of hearing the falling over stories, or do you still find them amusing?

6) I have New Penis...

Bits and pieces

2009-02-19T18:20:00.004+11:00

I saw He's Just Not That Into You last night. It was quite a good movie, with one moment in particular where I laughed so hard I stopped breathing.

But at the same time its a bit of a mind fuck. The movie is based on a book that the premise is - when a guy wants you, there will be no question about it. He'll want you. You are not the exception, you are the rule. But the movie is all about the exceptions. I dunno. I walked out of it going 'great movie. Boys are STOOPID!'.

***
Exhibit A: As we walked out of the cinema, we were behind this:

***
Popeye would be a great name for a penis. Think about it for half a second. Not only is he small, one eyed and ugly as fuck, but he's always willing to aid a screaming woman.

Aussie Pride

2009-02-15T17:08:00.002+11:00

I am so proud to be an Aussie right now. With the disaster in Victoria, a country in recession manges to find personal donation of $77 million dollars. The Aussie Battler never does it alone.

And that Koala? Jeez, we've all seen the video, but it still moves me to tears. And I don't even like koalas.

In other news - not much. Check back in a few days.

131

2009-02-09T17:57:00.002+11:00

Is not exactly a significant number. 131 dollars. 131 meters. 131 calories.

Its not really that big a number. Until today. 131 lives lost. The devastation I cannot put into words.

I first found out that there were fatalities through a friends facebook page. She's a firefighter out near Marysville. 26 was the number then. That was awful enough. But every time I checked, that figure changed.

Another friend - my best friends brother - updated his facebook - his family live in the middle of that area. My family friends, who I loved. I contacted my bestie, but no response.

36, then 46.

He updated a few hours later to say that they were safe in Melbourne. I breathed a sigh of relief

Someone rang and told me 66, I couldn't believe that. Later that night the toll rose to 76, then a few minutes later the news read 84. I began to clean, even though it was 11.30 at night.

How could it get worse? Easily.

This morning it was 108.

My friend rang me back today. Her family is safe and well. Their property was safe. The only thing that happened to them was the loss of her sister and brother in law's business in Marysville. I'm not really surprised, the whole town was wiped out.

I began to breathe, to hope, when the number stayed steady. But it has gone up again. Now its 131.

Some of the stories I've heard in the past two days
Horse saves farmer from blaze
Teen saves family on a tractor
When Hell came to Kinglake

They expect the toll to rise above 200.

I have no words.

My life is full of moments...

2009-02-06T18:27:00.002+11:00

I haven't been to the gym all week. A full week without the gym, and I get a whole lot of excess energy. Throw in the fact that I ovulated, and that normally makes me a bit stir crazy, and you get this scenario...

After work, Friday afternoon. Its hot. We've done most of our work, and are doing catch ups and paperwork. We're relaxed and in a good mood. I grab my clothes to head into the facility. Feeling silly, I drop my shirt on the top of my head and drape the pants around my neck, so that I have a leg dangling down each side of my chest.

I start dancing around the corridor. Saying 'I'm ready to go in now, I'm wearing my uniform'. I turn around and there is the guy I want to fuck, standing right behind me.

Damn.

Things that run through a girls head pre-date...

2009-02-04T18:13:00.003+11:00

What will I wear tomorrow? Dress or skirt/top combo? The dress looks quite flattering, but I hate the print. Better ask gay bestie. Gay bestie says dress. Is the dress trying too hard?
The date's after work. Must take another bag. And makeup. And facewash. And moisturiser. And clean underwear.
Gotta shave legs.
Do I have condoms? Yep. Three different types. That should keep him happy.
Where are we meeting again?
Will he pay or do I have to take money? Do I have enough? It is just drinks and a movie. Shit I owe a work mate $20. Must go to the ATM.
What shoes will I wear?
Should I bling up? Or go au natural?
Have I plucked my eyebrows? Should I get the rest of the face fuzz while I'm at it?
Is the dress too much? I mean, it makes my shoulders look weird, though my boobs look hot.

So, I had a date last night. My first actual, proper date. I met him on findafuck. He messaged me on his second day there. I messaged back. He asked me some intriguing questions. We moved to emails. Then to texts and finally phone calls. We arranged to meet for drinks and a movie.

He was a complete gentleman. He held open doors, made way for me, took me to dinner and paid for absolutely everything. It was nice. Converstaion flowed, bu no real clickyness. No sex was going to happen, that was clear (from a geographical and morning start point of view). After about 3 hours he suddenly decided to call it a night. I was grilling him on his work (I was interested) and he was 'beginning to dwell on how much he had to do the next day'. He walked me to the train station where I got a kiss on the cheek and a one armed hug.

WTF?!?

Fail!

2009-01-28T21:07:00.002+11:00

I've changed the name of my blog. Its no longer what it was. I fall over too much. And I did it again today. But it must have been hilarious. I mean, to watch, not to experience.

I was bored. I had nothing to do for a total of about 3 minutes. So I decided to run up and down the halls. Now, I should point out that I thought this was a great core workout. Especially since my shoes are wrapped in two layers of plastic at the time. No traction means that I have to work extra hard to stay upright.

Um. I didn't think that one through. I have enough trouble staying upright. Sober. In flats. In hindsight, I was destined to stack it.

So I'm running up the hallway. Flat out. And I approach the end, and decide to stop. I slam on the metaphorical brakes. Slowing, slowing. Stopped.

I transferred my weight onto my leading foot, ready to step into a walk. Turns out I wasn't really stopped, I was merely halted by the plastic wrapped around my foot. And as I transferred the weight forward, the plastic broke.

My foot slid straight through the overshoe, and straight under the trolley I had 'stopped' in front of. I went down on one knee, with my leading shin smacking into the trolley, sending it careering into the wall. A god almighty crash echoed down the hallway.

I leapt up. There were people working in each room at that end of the hallway. How could they have not heard it? I replaced my broken overshoe, and nonchelantly left the scene.

Am I retarded if no one saw it?

Strange, much?

2009-01-26T13:10:00.002+11:00

I have weird dreams. I've blogged them before. But I have recently made a discovery.

I'm not sure how I missed blogging this, since it was funny as, but a few months ago, just after I started my new job, I had a dream that I was looking for something in bag, on the train. I kept pulling out these items, examining them, deciding they weren't what I wanted, and throwing them away.

Well, I pulled out this item that felt like my boot. I remember how it felt, but not how it looked. I threw it away, thinking 'that's not right'. And I must have gone back to sleep.

In the morning when I woke up, there were shoes all over my floor! I have a habit of keeping oft worn footwear under my bed, and during my dream, I must have been rummaging around under my bed, dragging them out and throwing them around the room. It must have looked funny as.

Anyway, the other night, I had this very strange experience. After going to bed I realised I had something that I needed to talk to my roomie out. Urgently. I vaguely remember standing in her doorway, trying to ask her a question. She looked at me, seeming very confused. I trailed off. I tried to reword the question so she'd understand. I couldn't get the words out. I told her I was confused, and that I was going back to bed.

I spoke to her yesterday, and asked what happened. Turns out I sleep walk.

I have to wear pyjamas for the rest of my life!

How to irritate maximum people.

2009-01-24T12:19:00.005+11:00

Peak hour. Almost 40 degrees C. Packed train. I'm sitting with one of my workmates and his girlfriend. They're discussing which house they want to buy and I tune out and begin to play lemmings on my phone. A few minutes pass, I'm just beginning to get into that level, when a stench hit my nose.

Its eye watering and nose burning. It closes my throat and shreds at my lungs. It not the standard train smell of recycled BO. Its the smell of an electrical fire. It started small. Just a hint. I snap my phone shut and ask my mate if he smells that. He pauses and admits that he does. I thought it was outside, but its getting worse. Its inside the carriage. My train smells like an electrical fire. People begin to leave the carriage and move to the next one. Some people loiter in the end bit, where we were sitting, and complain.

I get up and press the emergency call button next to the door. I wait. Press it again. 30 seconds pass. I fumble for my phone to call 000 (the Aus emergency number), when the guard answers the speaker. I tell him our carriage smells like smoke. Its pretty bad. He tells me they'll investigate at the next stop, about 10 minutes away. I return to my seat, the smell is beginning to clear, but it still lingers in the air. Everyone is standing around, looking at me. I relay the message to them.

The train stops instead at the next station. We sit there a while. They open the doors (Fresh air, yay) and the guard comes down. He evacuates the carriage and seals it off, so that no one will try to get on at the next station. We all moved to the next carriage along. IT was strange. Most of the time people do not talk to each other on trains, but once shit happened, we were interacting with each other, and introducing ourselves, asking about work etc.

We go to the next big station, where peak hour trains stop regularly, and the train stops again. We figure they need to seal off the doors on the other side of the train. This time one of the guards on the platform is insisting the driver open the doors. The doors open, more fresh air. This time the driver insists we evacuate the train. Everybody to platform 4.

Going up the stairs with what felt like a few thousand other people, and my mate comments that this is all my fault. I get the giggles. I love making an impact. His girlfriend makes a comment about the 'I never' game. "I've never emptied a whole peak hour train." We file up the stairs, over the tracks, and back down the stairs to the platform. We're standing six deep, my back is to the stairs and people are lined as far forward as they can go. The platforms is chockers. Almost overflowing. The first train along isn't going anywhere near where we want to go. As it pulls in, the looks on the faces of its occupants was incredible.

Shock, horror. Seriously, stop reading for half a second and imagine it. Hilarity. I cracked up laughing again at them. The train was packed. Epically full. Have you seen the pictures of the guys in Japan who are employed to push people onto the trains to make them fit? It was like that. I skipped that train. About half of my peak hour train squeezed onto that peak hour train, electing to switch trains further down the line. Everybody else waited.

Immediately after it left, we were told there was a train going out our way. Departing in 2 minutes from the platform we had just left. Again, everybody trudges up the stairs and back down. Some poor guard was copping it from some woman about the whole kerfuffle.

So we crammed onto the train. It seemed most people wanted to get directly onto the carriage at the bottom of the stairs. It was jam packed full of people.

And that's how I evacuated a whole train. What an exciting start to the weekend!

Confirmed

2009-01-19T17:16:00.002+11:00

It has been confirmed. Someone from work is reading me. I don't know who. It is quite the mystery. But they're trawling my archives. Seriously, don't you have work to do? Um. Yeah. If you could just let me know who you are, that would be nice.

Ayway. Apart from that its business as usual. The post I pulled was about a friend of mine at work. No biggie. I'm still going to post as per usual. I just may remove some posts about public vomiting. BRB. Actually, it was quite a funny post. I'll leave it up.

Part of the last post was about me needing another round of root canal.

So I had to leave work early today. I had to get root canal. Again. I was in agony. I was literally hanging out for that giant needle. It was a relief when I got it. It proceeded normally, I guess. It was much less painful than last time, but my dentist (who is an angel, and worked her lunch break to help me out) said there was a fair bit of blood, so it might take a while to settle. Tonight will tell. But nothing could be as bad as last night. I was literally writhing and screaming in agony. Poor cat. She kept trying to comfort me and kept getting slapped off the bed. Must give her cuddles tonight to make up for it.

Anyhoo, as I was trying to make a claim from my health fund something very strange happened. My 'no limit' preventative dental, got declined... because I had gone over my limit. Humm. Ok. I spent just under an hour on the phone trying to get them to tell me where exactly it was written that I had a limit. They were not able to produce this evidence. Then half an hour on the phone to the ombudsman. And then half an hour writing a letter of complaint. Which they will fax off to the health fund.

Fuckers.

2009-01-17T15:19:00.003+11:00

I've just pulled a post. It may go up in a few days. I need to find out my work ISP first. I suspect someone's found me...

#576

2009-01-17T13:35:00.005+11:00

I'm confused.

About a week ago I got asked to a music festival by the guy who inspired this. Oh hell yes! Excitement much? Well, I checked out the site for the festival. And saw the ticket price. Outside of my price range. I email boy to tell him, and suggest movies as a cheaper alternative.

The next day I get a response. He ignored the request for a movie, and reiterated the music festival. I investigated further and thought a little bit. Yeah, I guessed I could do it. I checked out the site, no tickets available. I tell boy and he laments. Heaps of people going, going to be stacks of fun, he wants me to go etc, etc. More tickets have gone on sale, but I really can't go. Can someone offer an explanation? Why would he be so keen to hang out, but not want to go to a movie?

I need root canal. Again. And I'm confused about that too. I thought it was the tooth that had previously been done. And I'd lose it. Should I be excited about getting to keep my tooth, or disappointed that I will be forking out a buttload of money to keep another?

*sigh* The painkillers are addling my brain.

#575

2009-01-13T20:33:00.003+11:00

Well. Its crazy. Life has it in for me, I swear to gawd!

I'm broke. Broke, broke, broke. Not quite destitute, but I won't be clothes shopping for a few weeks. And I got a letter in the mail today. A few months ago my health insurance company merged with another, and I got a pay out. Yay for free money. Well, it wasn't really free. I had to give it to them first...

Anyhoo. I got a letter in the mail today. It seems I wasn't paid quite enough last time. Woot! More free money. I flip to the statement to read just how much I get and I see...

$5.37

Anti climatic much?

#574

2009-01-11T13:16:00.004+11:00

Well, as much as I think men are fucked, I still cannot get over the glory of the cock. *sigh*

I don't truly beleive the rant that was last post. I know of one or two truly decent guys. Very, very few, considering how many I know. Everyone has issues. Mine are many. Trust is a big one of them. I don't know if I'll ever really be able to trust a guy. And that makes me angry. Hence - the rant.

Moving on.

I went to a hens night last night. The 'hen' was my best mates sister. She'd originally planned a big, wild hens night, but changed it, piece by piece, to suit her friends, until it disintegrated. She canceled the night, but her sister decided to throw her a party anyway, and invite all of her own friends.

I was drafted to help set up the party. I had an hour at home after work, had a light lunch, and headed out the door.

When I arrived there were three others there - my friend, the hen, and my friends roomie (a guy). We cleaned and set up for the party - prepped nibblies, arranged drinks and iced the 'triple dick delight'. Each of us girls got to decorate a cock cake. Guess which one was mine? (Kez, no cheating)

We had it all set up, when my friends other friends arrived. I had only met them once. Her roomie had met some of them once, the hen had never met them. They breezed in, went straight outside and started smoking and chatting amongst themselves. They'd come in occasionally to mix more cocktails. A few of them disappeared into my friends room, and when they left it had a lovely, herbal scent to it.

The hen disappeared to get ready to go out. The roomie and myself prepped food, mixed drinks, and wandered around aimlessly in between. I'd go outside to talk to the group, but several times ended up with people standing in front of me to talk to someone at the other end of the circle. I gave up and headed back inside to pick at the food.

The food was distinctly not diet. Party pies, yum cha, cheese board, ships and cocktail frankfurts. And a bowl of chocolate. I had been picking the chocolate whilst filling the giant penis pinata. But I felt sick by this stage and did nothing but push the chocolate around in the bowl. I'd go find the hen and chat to her, or wonder if I could go watch telly with the roomie. I didn't think I was going to the pub afterwards. Partly because I felt sick, partly because I didn't like their chosen venue (the guys there make my skin crawl), but mostly because I felt so out of place with her other friends. They were all 10 or more years older than me, drunk, stoned and really clicky with each other.

I had offered to drive them to the pub, and I was hanging out until they decided to go. About 8 I was out there talking to them, when I ended up in a corner. Well, I say talking to them, but the reality is that I was standing there, while they talked. Several of them were smoking and waving said cigarettes around. I tried to tolerate it, but it was becoming more than uncomfortable to me. I ended up waving the cigarette smoke away. The guy got really defensive and I began to walk inside again. As I stepped through the threshold he yelled after me, 'Fucking non smokers. Really ruin a party.'

I muttered to myself 'May as well go home'. As soon as those words had left my mouth I knew that was the best option for me. I put my glass down, said good bye to the roomie and the hen. Walked to the door, put my shoes on, yelled goodbye to my friend, and walked.

I was feeling quite green around the gills by the time I got home. My stomach was rejecting the quality of food that I'd been eating. It wasn't until I got rid of the last cocktail frank (all four of them!) that my stomach began to settle.

And then I watched an episode of NCIS and went to bed. What a riveting night.

Men are FUCKED!

2009-01-05T20:23:00.002+11:00

Jeez, what a happy new year I'm having. I am so over men. I have long been disgusted with men, seeing their seedy side quite regularly. But

On Saturday I met a tranny. She was lovely. But she made me sick to my stomach. Not because of what she was, but because she gets more straight guys than I do. She'd take them home, have a little play, get them hard, and off the skirt would come... to reveal Mr Bajinko. And most of the time, simply because they're hard, and she's a warm, willing, lubricated hole, they'll go for it.

Men are seriously fucked. I have enough trust issues as it is. How the hell am I supposed to get past this? I don't want to waste my time with a sleazy fucker. But how is that possible when they're all sleazy fuckers? Is there any point to even wanting one? Can I turn into a lesbian now?

I'm so over this shit.

Happy Belated New Year

2009-01-04T11:15:00.003+11:00

So the new year is upon us. Typically a time for reflection and aspirations. And I'm not going to be one to miss out on that.

Reflections
The year started on a low. An utter low. I hated my job and my depression was spiralling out of control because of it. My supervisor was a complete cunt. I cut myself off from my freinds and family. Sat at home and hated on myself. Yeah, I'd call it a low point.

And then I got a new job! A light at the end of the tunnel. Only the new job didn't start for 2 months. It was a very long tunnel. I got demoted the day before I got the offer. I was ready to go to HR when I got the call. I sort of wish I had. He's still being a cunt to the GalPal, only the sweetest, nicest girl in the world. But two months of hell, and I was free! Leaving that place was the best thing I'd ever done for myself.

The new job was great. It didn't have an auspicious start, what with throwing up repeatedly on the first day. Took a while to settle in and for my moods to regulate themselves. But I'm ok now.

Weight loss was a big thing for me. I gave up dancing and sex for it. I managed to shed 10kg. Some days that's good, some days its not good enough. I wanted to lose 15 kg. Today, 10 kg is good.

I met two bloggers. Both of whom I adore to peices. I aimed to meet a few others, but that never ended up happening.

I went to two concerts. Michael Buble and Matchbox 20. Loved them both, but not as cool as the Snow Patrol one.

Had dinner with my dad and siblings in September. It was damn expensive. The whole weekend cost me $500. I don't think I would have done that since maybe Christmas of 2001.

The year ended ok. I wanted to go to the city to watch the fireworks. But I pulled up injured and grumpy as fuck, so that idea went out the window. I vowed to stay home and be grumpy. Went out to watch the local fireworks. Then ended up at the pub with some of the girls from findafuck.

I had some rediculous allergic reaction, and HALF of my bottom lip swelled. It looked like I had the whole of Angelina's pout in half of my bottom lip. I'd spent half the night biting on my lip to keep it from spilling out and looking hideous. As I left the hothot bouncer started trying to tlak to me, but I was so self concious of my epically swollen lip, that I pretty much just ran past him. Damn.

The next day it was still swollen, and majorly bruised. Note to self: No chewing on numb lips. I can't feel if I'm damaging it.

Aspirtations
Clearly, I want to lose more weight. That's number one priority.

I want to have more sex.

I want to manage to fit in gym time, sex, dancing, friends and me time.

I want to be the best I can be at my job.

Did I mention I want more sex? That includes a threesome.

Shiny and the death defying skink!

2008-12-28T10:26:00.004+11:00

Whoever said that money can't buy happiness has clearly not been buying the right things! I present to you my favourite purchase of the post christmas sales -

And it was pretty cheap too. I heart sales. I didn't really buy much there. I mostly splurged on Christmas gift packs (50 to 70% off) and got cooking sauces/ mustards etc. I did get some chocolate. But it was the freddo frog stocking type, so not really much in that. But I'm still happy with my shiny bits.

***

I go a hell of a surprise this morning when I woke up. I meandered out to the kitchen to get brekkie and what do I see sitting on the bench looking at me? Just the biggest fucking garden skink I've ever seen in my life! How he managed to not be eaten by the cats and end up half masticated in my bed is a mystery to me. Wikipedia says they grow to a maximum of 14 cm, rarely exceeding 9. Well, I tell you this bastard was about 20! Of course wikipedia also called them skinkie's, so I don't have a lot of faith in that article.

He was quite calm for a skink. Though, as usual, quite hard to catch. I chased him under the microwave, under the dishes, back under the microwave, around the cereal, and back under the microwave. Before finally catching him. And, like most skinks, once he was on my wrist, he stayed there. He did try to pop over the edge of the bench, but stopped when he realised it had anoverhang and he couldn't just run down it. Boots was eating her brekkie and watching me with mild interest just happened to see it. And she froze. Mummy was playing with a self propelled toy! And she wanted.

The skink, defying death from the one place he cannot be touched.

So I go thim outside in my potted herbs. He was kinda cute and I hope he sticks around.

Merry Christmas Y'all!

2008-12-25T10:59:00.003+11:00

So my gift is this...

PORN!!! Enjoy.

It had been a while coming. Several games of pool on our lunch breaks. Some idle flirting. Nothing really out there. I knew he liked what he saw, regardless of if I played in a low cut dress or a tee. Although he did appreciate watching me lean over the table and handle the pool cue in the dress.

To me he was another guy at work. Friendly, helpful. But one day in the lunch area he was wearing this tight muscle shirt. Very much not dress code. Normally he wore polo shirts. But that day... the day that started it, he looked very different. Nonchalantly sexy. It showed him off quite well. Tight muscles, one tattoo on his arm, one half hidden across the base of his neck. It appeared to be writing of some sort, and I was instantly intrigued as to what it said. I would have bet my panties that he had more too.

Like I said, sexy.

I pondered how to bed this guy. It would be relatively simple. A mention that I'd go there and he'd be putty in my hands. Except putty is soft. And he wouldn't be. Ahh yes, he'd be my bitch. Available when I wanted him. I wondered what he'd be like in bed. Would he be rough, or timid? I suspected he'd be quite considerate, but more for his ego than for his partner's satisfaction. And that suited me quite fine.

At work functions he orbited the area that I was in. Watching. Not really hanging out with me, but always around. A few times I did catch him looking. I was a touch creeped when the other guy he was talking to was watching me too. I had hoped that it would be that night. I'd shaved and gotten ready for it. But sadly, he wasn't walking in straight lines by the end of the night. Looking back I should have taken him, but I left with my boss. And I didn't want him to leave with us. Stupid, stupid girl. Hindsight sucks. I decided to make that up to him. And to me. God knows I needed a good rough fuck.

A week later the emails began. Idle chit chat. A touch of flirtation. An offer for drinks after work one night. A few days to arrange for it to happen, for our shcedules to click. For my roomie to be out.

We'd selected a quiet pub in my suburb. I'd have two drinks. Then mention that I lived a block from here. Kiss him in the elevator and have his cock in my mouth by the time I hit the light switch at home. Great plan!

And the best laid plans always go astray.

He caught the train in, arrived half an hour before we were due to meet. I'd stepped out of the shower and was halfway through moisturising when he rang. I couldn't resist. A quick run of my fingers over my clit as I stood there, naked, talking to him on the phone. I was tempted to just tell him to come over, but he'd probably get lost. I had to head out to see him without doing my make up. I figured it wasn't a big deal. I'd probably sweat it off anyway.

I was surprised when I saw him. He was dressed quite nicely. Light blue dress shirt. It looked like silk, though I would have bet my bra it wasn't. Not on his wage. Then again, he had matched it with suit pants. I figured I'd find out soon enough.

The initial meeting was awkward. There was a moment where we hesistated. Do we shake hands or make out? I settled for a kiss on the cheek. Lingering there just long enough to be suggestive. He told me he hadn't had dinner yet. Could we change our plans and have something to eat instead? Near the train station was a strip of restaurants. I was in heels, so I was more than happy to go somewhere close.

Again, I was surprised when I suggested a casual noodle bar and he turned it down. He wanted something better. Something that served steak. Jeez. Steak? I never eat steak. Its too expensive and it makes for a long dinner. Maybe that's what he wanted. Gawd, I really didn't want this to turn into a date. Nerves began to jangle as he took my hand, twining fingers into mine, and led me a 20 minute walk to the restaurant he wanted.

Conversation flowed easily. It stalled in places, but wasn't really awkward. The weather was a good topic. He wasn't from around here, so he wasn't used to the heat and humidity. Of course, with the heat and the humidity came a lack of clothes, and he wasn't complaining.We quizzed each other about family, friends, locations, jobs, travel plans. God, why would he bother with a date? He doesn't have plans to stay and I'm not inclined to date.

We got to the restaurant and he managed to get us a quiet table, for the two of us. The lights were dimmed and the ambient noise was low. He sat opposite me and we leaned in to talk some more. He ordered steak. I had a salad, dressing on the side. Shaddup. I'm weight obsessed and he already knew it. He ordered drinks for us. 2 bourbons. Mine a diet. And some cheese bread for entree. God, he was going to make me eat it. Cheese and bread? Calories galore.

The bread arrived with our drinks, and I declined to touch it. I wasn't really that hungry. He pressed the issue, and I distracted him by stretching my legs out and pressing them up against his. My legs were silky smooth and the fabric of his pants felt quite pleasant. Automatically, I rubbed my leg up against him. His eyes widened and he leaned in even closer, almost touching me. All awkwardness gone. All pretense disappeared. He wanted to get laid just as badly as I did. He just hid it better.

His eyes narrowed, his voice dropped a little. Aside from that he continued as if I hadn't done anything. But was that a little pressure I felt against my leg? Was he pressing back without rubbing? I eased my leg away from his, and it followed. I reached for my drink, looking up at him as I took a sip, with a dirty smile on my face. He'd see that look later, but instead of a straw, it would be his cock in my mouth.

The waiter interrupted our little moment. He was a little embarrassed, placing our food on the table and departing as quickly as possible. Surprisingly, the addition of food did little to stop the chatter. It also did little to dull the tension between us. The looks became sharper as the night wore on. The jokes became wittier, the touching more full on. I ached to reach under the table and grab him. I ached to kiss him, nibble him, rip his shirt off, have him inside me. A warm breeze blew through the room, and suddenly all I could smell was him. I was sure I was wet. Anticipation was killing me.

We didn't finish our meal. Our eyes met as I placed a piece of... something in my mouth. I think it was cheese. He politely requested that I tell him when I was ready to go. I put my fork down and gave the most simple, but obvious reply.

'Now.'

He called for the check. Downed his drink. It had been refilled at some stage but I was too wrapped up in the tension to realise when. He put down a card and the waiter whisked it away before I could even get my wallet out to pay my share. He leaned over the table and asked in a Vin Diesel voice, 'How far away from here do you live?'

I consdered a brief moment before replying. He nodded once. The check was returned. He signed the slip and we walked out into the balmy night. A storm may have been rolling in. Or it could have been snowing. We were clueless. The only thing of consequence at that time was each other.

He raised his well muscled arm to hail a taxi, slipping the other one over my bare shoulders. The feel of his skin slipping over mine sent tingles down my spine. As the taxi slowed down he pulled me to him and gently kissed me. As our lips touched a shiver ran down my chest, igniting my nipples, coiling hot and raw in my stomach, and flooding down to my hips.

For the full story, visit my porn blog!

Gifts, gifts, gifts

2008-12-22T17:57:00.002+11:00

Christmas is tricky. Very tricky. There's the whole 'what do I get...?' and 'what if they don't get me anything?' Well, I managed to get my workmates something they always enjoy... FOOD! I made a cookies and cream cheesecake for them. It was absolutely delicious and shit easy to make. If you want the recipe email me and I'll send it. And I supplied a massive bowl of cherries for them too. Mostly because I buy a box of cherries each year at this time, but partially because I'm too stingy to buy them each something individually. Recession etc etc.

Well this cheesecake was so massive we each had a double helping, then we fed it to two other departments and then I took it upstairs and left it in the fridge with a 'help yourself' note attached. Seriously. Nommy.

So I'm left with one more group of people to give a gift to. And that's you guys. My very special and much loved readers. For you guys I have the perfect gift. Something that you always love. So stay tuned. I'm working hard on this one for you.

Old Favourites

2008-12-18T20:40:00.002+11:00

A lifetime ago, I used to listen to country music. Not a lifetime. Another person, another place away, in my not to distant past. I was so sure. Of everything. I knew who I was, what I wanted to do with my life. I knew that I could get the world if I worked hard enough. I knew that some day I'd be somebody. I'd count. I'd make a difference. Now I live in Sydney. I do make a difference. I do some serious help to the world. But if I didn't, someone else would take my place. I don't know if anyone notices I'm gone from my old job, even though I put my soul into it.

I knew what I wanted out of my love life. I wanted to be the world to someone. I wanted someone who would give up everything for me. Even though I'd never let them do it, I still wanted someone who would do it. I just didn't know how to attain the ideal. Now I don't have that ideal, and I still can't attain it. I want to love somebody, but I've been shattered by guys in the past, and pieces are missing. I don't know if I'm capable of it. I've never been in love, and I'm too jaded to believe that I can do it.

I didn't give a damn about what anyone thought of me. Ponder how much that has changed.

I used to make friends so easily. I'd just be there and they'd be drawn to me. I had all the time for all the people. I was out socialising every night. Now I'm home, stuck to facebook or one of my blogs. I miss that. Life was slower but more energetic. Now its hecticly fast, but kind of empty.

Now I'm not that girl anymore. I am someone different. More focused, more competetive, more retarded. I'm not as insecure as I was. I have grown. But tonight I wish I was still her. The girl from my past. When life was simple. Though that might have been because I didn't understand the rules.

For tonight. Just one night, I'm going back to that time. A storm is rolling in and I will log off the internet, and sit and watch it. For one night I shall be that girl.

On retards

2008-12-11T21:46:00.007+11:00

I am so uncoordinated. Its amazing. Truly. I have a propensity to fall down at random moments. Usually in public and most of the time in the presence of hot guys. My klutziness in this past week has outweighed Steph.

Monday, cold as fuck, wore shorts to work. It was wet and rainy. I wore white.

Tuesday, walking to the train station, I slipped. I wobbled for half a moment, then gracefully (as gracefully as someone falling over can be) managed to slide down onto my knee. Cue bruise on my knee and sore toes.

Wednesday I wore thongs to the station. Running up the escalator the tip of my thong clipped the step, and I stacked it. If I hadn't been hanging onto the rail, I would have fallen onto my arse. As it was, I managed to grab the rail and swing there for a second. Cue one wrenched wrist and a lovely set of bruises on my ankles.

Thursday I didn't fall over. I did walk straight past a co worker in the street without even seeing her, but no physical injuries. I was busy congratulating myself as I was preparing for bed that I walked straight into the end of my bed. Cue epic bruise on my thigh.

Yesterday took the cake. I got to the train station and was fossicking through my bag for my wallet when I realised... I left it at home. Cue a 20 minute round trip home, in the rain, to collect said wallet.

But this retardedness is nothing compared to what I have seen on the sphere this week. Some botched abortion, right wing 'christian' is haunting some of my fave gay bloggers. I will not link this useless fuckstain. Nobody wants to read his regurgitated religious propaganda and underlying hate for gays and alcoholics. Hell, if you manage to track this useless arseclown down, and you read his profile, you'll see a litany of books, music and movies listed that have a big chunk of gay influence, sex and violence. As another blogger who comments on my mates blog pointed out, 'Nothing wrong with that, provided you are not preaching to others about right and wrong'. I'm going to begin a rant here. If you don't want to read it, skip down and comment on how retarded I am.

He has four or so biblical quotes that he drivels out, no matter how irrelevant they are. Clearly he's never actually read the bible himself. If he did he would have noticed that there are TWO stories of creation. In the first chapter of the whole, gigantic motherload of bullshit, you find an epic contrast of the same story. Yeah, right. The bible is a great story. Its fiction, not fact, and is not meant to be treated as such. The most important part of the book is the underlying message. One of love, forgiveness and tolerance. He seems to have missed that. Jesus healed lepers and hung out with prostitutes. He was friends with the worst of the worst in that society. What he could not change, he embraced. He still loved those who were sinners. What is wrong with this buttmonkey that he cannot do the same? Does he think he's better than Jesus? Has he forgotten the humility that he lived his life with?

I pointed out these to him on his blog. But funnily enough he has comment moderation on. I'm not surprised, anyone who spews as much hate as this guy around the place is due for some return fire. He leaves comment around various blogs gloating that people are going to hell for 'choosing' to be gay. Don't even get me started on the 'choice' thing. Its bad enough that he's doing the very un-Christian thing in rejoicing that someone is going to hell. The true Christians I know would be saddened by it. Though I had to laugh at the comment he left here. You know, two seconds before I deleted it.

NEWSFLASH wanker -
I'M NOT GAY!!! I HAVE A VERY HEALTHY LOVE OF PENIS!!!

Tool. It just really bugs me that he feels free to go spew whatever vitriol he pleases, where he will. Without regard for people's feelings. And without giving them the same freedom to express themselves in return. He choses to only air the self righteous comments and those supporting his views on his blog. To me, this guy is the sort of person who turns me away from religion.

The Aftermath.

2008-12-09T19:28:00.003+11:00

So the reaction to the haircut has been pretty much what's been seen here. Generally 'Wow,' *2 second pause* 'I like it!'

In the spirit of the new look, I decided it was high time I bought some new clothes. My old ones were hanging off me, except for my jeans, which didn't fit when I started the diet.

I dunno what it is, but I can see the fuggest clothes and make them look good. There have been several times when I've tried on clothes for the freak value, only to find out that they look fucking hot. My fave example of this was a pair of poo brown corduroy pants that looked like they'd been made out of carpet. Seriously, they were FUG! But when I tried them on, they were HAWT!

I've digressed.

So I shopped my size 16 arse off. New dress that's fug on the rack, but absolutely stunning on my rack. A few new shirts, new underwear, new socks, new gym clothes. I bought everything except pants. I even picked up a pair of shoes that go with absolutely everything.

I was stoked to be buying size 14 tops and dresses. Its a huge change for me. I've gone from a 16-18 to a 14-16. I didn't want to buy a whole lot cuz I'm broke, and

So when I got my few purchases home I looked at my overflowing cupboards and decided to clean them out.

Eight bags of clothes to throw out...

My cupboards are now looking a little desolate. Ahh well. Post Christmas sales are coming up...

Compare and contrast

2008-12-06T15:05:00.002+11:00

Before.
After.

When I told the hairdresser I wanted a really short pixie cut, she was really dubious. I've had short hair before and I knew I could pull it off. Damn, she got really enthusiastic when most of it was gone. I think she was more excited than me!

Introspection

2008-12-05T21:59:00.003+11:00

This time of year is quite funny. More ironic and strange than humourous. I usually spend Christmases alone. Which is no drama. I've done it for 5 years. I usually make a little deal of it, but it is just another day. Have a nice roast turkey lunch with veges, or, for the past few years, I've had turkey, ham and salad. Spend the morning opening presents, have a yummy lunch, and have pudding for dessert.

For the first time in 3 years I get a Christmas off. Which is quite strange.

Today is my Grandmothers birthday. Its 20 days to Christmas. Today is traditionally the day I put up the Christmas tree. If it doesn't go up by Nan's birthday, it doesn't go up at all. This year I got a little psyched about doing Christmas. But now I'm broke, I told my family I wouldn't be doing Christmas this year. I'd have to post everything to each individual, which is expensive and a pain int he arse. I got something for my mum. I had to post her a birthday present already. Silly old bag has already unwrapped it. Sometimes I wonder who's supposed to be the kid here. I also got something for my dad. I bought it off the net and they automatically post it.

I bought a gift for a mate too. She hasn't opened it, but its the kind of thing that is best opened prior to Christmas.

This Christmas I'm going to have turkey, ham and salad. Gotta stick to the diet. The only concessions I'm making is to have 2 mince pies, 2 little puddings, 2 little cakes and a pack of choc chip gingerbread in the week around. I still have to lose a heap of weight before New Year.

Its funny sometimes. Since I've been in Sydney, each New Year has been the direct opposite of how the previous year was. My first year here, I went out with my roomies. The following year, I was out of touch with pretty much all of them. That year I went out with my current roomie and some of her mates. Now I don't hang out with my roomie as much as I used to, and the last time I spoke to some of the guys before was prior to last New Year.

Last year I got ditched without notice. I refused to let that get to me, so I went to the city by myself, hung out, watched the crowds and fireworks. No real biggie. This year should have been better. This year by all rights I should be going out with a huge crowd, being the life of the party. This year I'll be doing the same as last year. I'll be out at Darling Harbour. One face amongst a million. Watching. Not interacting. In the middle of the crowd, but not a part of the crowd. I'll watch the fireworks, wander around a little, have a coffee, watch the next fireworks and the dissipating crowd. Then I'll catch a crowded train full of revellers and go home by myself.

Its kind of sad.

***UPDATE*** I do have offers of something to do Christmas Day. The truth is I prefer to spend it alone. I am working Christmas eve and boxing day, so travelling somewhere is out. Likewise, I'm working New Years Eve, so I've gotta be in Sydney for it. It just sucks spending New Years alone.

What does the early worm get?

2008-12-03T17:59:00.004+11:00

My life is a series of moments. Some of which are easily classified. Some of which are not. This is an easily classified one...

There was a grasshopper in my kitchen this morning. What he was doing there was an absolute mystery to me. I live 5 floors up. I spotted the bug before my kitties. Which is a good thing, because if the cats had seen it before me I can guarantee it would have shown up half masticated in my bed before I even had my coffee.

I decided to remove said hopper to a safer place. Namely, anywhere outside. So after my coffee (cuz I attempt nothing without it) I chased the critter around the dishes, through the sink, over the stove and finally into my left hand. I cupped my right hand over it to keep it concealed from the cats. And promptly realised that I had a choice of doors to let it out of. I could go through two locked doors and throw it off the balcony, or I could go through one door that required two hands to open, and take it down the elevator with me on the way to work and drop in the the front garden.

Humm.

I opted to throw it off the balcony, managed to free one hand and open both sliding doors. I threw the little bug off the balcony and watched him fly off to a safe haven, a tree about 30 metres away. I really had to go to work, but I decided to watch the bug for a few moments and enjoy the warm glow of having saved a creatures life.

Only to have it utterly shattered as a Currawong lazily flew up and had little bug for breakfast.

Damn.

Dear Sir...

2008-12-01T12:02:00.001+11:00

Andrew,

You were my first crush. We used to spit at each other at recess and I cut my hair one day flirting with you. I always thought you were hot. Still do, though I haven't seen you in years. I have a soft spot for you. Your best mate is a cunt.

Warm smiles forever,

Phish

Leigh,

You were my best mate and I liked you just as much as you liked me. I chickened out and set you up with your first girlfriend instead. You were still a great mate, and I'd do anything for you. But I haven't spoken to you in ages and I do miss you.

Call me sometime

Phish

Clint.

You were a mistake, but an important one at that. I wanted you, you wanted my best mate. I was drunk and horny, by your device. It was cold and you had a small penis. You could barely get it in. Just how every girl dreams of losing her virginity. NOT!

I set my standards by you these days. And every time I think of dropping them, I remember that night, and my resolve is strengthened to keep them so damned high.

BTW, you have a perpetual look on your face like you've just been hit across the back of the head with a frypan. Do something about it please.

Matt.

You were my counsellor during my parents divorce. I opened up, but was too screwed up to let you in. Thankyou forever.

Phish

J-Man

You are my best mate. I love you. I should have stayed and married you instead. I went to Sydney, you went to the Territory to muster cattle. We are world apart.

I'm sorry that you were the only person I could turn to when I was betrayed by my best mate. I'm sorry that someone else got me pregnant. Its not right. You can't have kids and I can. You want them and I don't. Why did it happen? I would have kept him. You would have loved him even though he wasn't yours. I'm sorry that you got hurt out of it. Before you knew of that, you were planning to move to NSW. Instead you went the other way, as far as you could, and I'll never have you.

You hold a piece of my heart and I don't really want it back. Look after it.

Part of me will always love you. I still dream of going back to Brisbane to be with you some day, but you're not there anymore. If you came to Sydney I'd be yours in a heartbeat.

Phish

SR,

Cunt. You hurt me more than I thought possible. I'll never trust you again.

Green Eyes

I was infatuated. I'm comfortable with you. We are so different. But you don't care about what anyone thinks of you, you are who you are. How can I not be comfortable around that?

I still think of you as a friend. I'd love to catch up sometime, see you in person rather than emails etc.

Movie sometime?

Overflow,

I did like you. I did want more. But it ended before it got there. I thought of you as a friend. After it was over you didn't even want to know my name. I thought you were a nice guy. Thanks for proving to me that even nice guys are assholes. It was a hard lesson to learn. Cruel to be kind and all.

You had the nicest penis I've ever known.

Phish

Adventures of Retardogirl

2008-11-28T18:15:00.004+11:00

Damn. Friday mornings suck sometimes. A long, grinding week and you have no brain function left. And I'm no exception.

This morning I was asked to do a simple task - roll up a floor mat and take it up to reception. Easy right? Not for Retardogirl its not!

I dragged said matt up to reception. Greeted the security guard, swiped my ID card and tugged at the door. When it didn't open, I put my weight behind it, pulling with my full 85kg. And nearly fell arse over tit when it didn't open.

Realising I had to push the door, I proceeded to do so. Leaning up against the door to try to open it. The security guard was almost pissing himself laughing as he offered to get the door for me. Retardogirl didn't realise she needed to swipe again.

So I swiped and opened the door, dragging the matt through behind me. Red faced, I dumped it under the desk and turned to run away in shame. Only to get two steps and be yanked backwards as my ID card and lanyard got tangled in the drawstring of the bag. As I bent down to untangle it I managed to make a semi redeeming pun about needing a weekend, before I turned and fled.

Nearly knocking myself out on the door that was closing behind me...

The Reason.

2008-11-23T19:19:00.006+11:00

For quite a long time I've disliked mushrooms. More than disliked. The thought of adding them to any food was absolutely nauseating to me. I couldn't even stand to add them to spaghetti sauce! It has only been very recently that I can eat them.

This traced back to a very, very vague memory that I had as a child. Indeed, the memory was so vague, that I thought it to be a dream. It has recently been referred to in conversation, and confirmed that it was an actual occurrence.

I must have been 5 or 6. And my father cooked mushrooms for dinner. Now, all he did was braise them in butter. Did I say braise? That indicates that it might be something nice. He took it a bit far though, always 'braised' his mushrooms in butter, until they resembled some kind of lumpy volcanic mud, dolloped onto your plate. And it stunk to high heavens. He never added anything to it, except maybe some salt and pepper. I'm sure it could be made quite nice, but Dad just massacred it!

Anyway, he served this goo to us one night for dinner. We were given an ultimatum, I think, eat it or no dessert. I don't remember eating it. But my brother did. The whole damn lot. And he sat there and looked uncomfortable after it. And then he did the grossest thing imaginable. He threw up. The whole lot. On.His.Plate! And it looked exactly the fucking same as it did before he ate it.

And that's why I don't like mushrooms!

I couldn't make this shit up!

2008-11-16T18:55:00.000+11:00

Original article can be found here.

From: Jane Gilles
Date: Wednesday 8 Oct 2008 12.19pm
To: David Thorne
Subject: Overdue account

Dear David,
Our records indicate that your account is overdue by the amount of $233.95. If you have already made this payment please contact us within the next 7 days to confirm payment has been applied to your account and is no longer outstanding.

Yours sincerely, Jane Gilles

From: David Thorne
Date: Wednesday 8 Oct 2008 12.37pm
To: Jane Gilles
Subject: Re: Overdue account

Dear Jane,
I do not have any money so am sending you this drawing I did of a spider instead. I value the drawing at $233.95 so trust that this settles the matter.

Regards, David.

From: Jane Gilles
Date: Thursday 9 Oct 2008 10.07am
To: David Thorne
Subject: Overdue account

Dear David,
Thankyou for contacting us. Unfortunately we are unable to accept drawings as payment and your account remains in arrears of $233.95. Please contact us within the next 7 days to confirm payment has been applied to your account and is no longer outstanding.

Yours sincerely, Jane Gilles

From: David Thorne
Date: Thursday 9 Oct 2008 10.32am
To: Jane Gilles
Subject: Re: Overdue account

Dear Jane,
Can I have my drawing of a spider back then please.

Regards, David.

From: Jane Gilles
Date: Thursday 9 Oct 2008 11.42am
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Overdue account

Dear David,
You emailed the drawing to me. Do you want me to email it back to you?

Yours sincerely, Jane Gilles

From: David Thorne
Date: Thursday 9 Oct 2008 11.56am
To: Jane Gilles
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Overdue account

Dear Jane,

Yes please.

Regards, David.

From: Jane Gilles
Date: Thursday 9 Oct 2008 12.14pm
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Overdue account

Attached

From: David Thorne
Date: Friday 10 Oct 2008 09.22am
To: Jane Gilles
Subject: Whose spider is that?

Dear Jane, Are you sure this drawing of a spider is the one I sent you? This spider only has seven legs and I do not feel I would have made such an elementary mistake when I drew it.

Regards, David.

From: Jane Gilles
Date: Friday 10 Oct 2008 11.03am
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Whose spider is that?

Dear David, Yes it is the same drawing. I copied and pasted it from the email you sent me on the 8th. David your account is still overdue by the amount of $233.95. Please make this payment as soon as possible.

Yours sincerely, Jane Gilles

From: David Thorne
Date: Friday 10 Oct 2008 11.05am
To: Jane Gilles
Subject: Automated Out of Office Response

Thankyou for contacting me. I am currently away on leave, traveling through time and will be returning last week.

Regards, David.

From: David Thorne
Date: Friday 10 Oct 2008 11.08am
To: Jane Gilles
Subject: Re: Re: Whose spider is that?

Hello, I am back and have read through your emails and accept that despite missing a leg, that drawing of a spider may indeed be the one I sent you. I realise with hindsight that it is possible you rejected the drawing of a spider due to this obvious limb ommission but did not point it out in an effort to avoid hurting my feelings. As such, I am sending you a revised drawing with the correct number of legs as full payment for any amount outstanding. I trust this will bring the matter to a conclusion.

Regards, David.

From: Jane Gilles
Date: Monday 13 Oct 2008 2.51pm
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Whose spider is that?

Dear David, As I have stated, we do not accept drawings in lei of money for accounts outstanding. We accept cheque, bank cheque, money order or cash. Please make a payment this week to avoid incurring any additional fees.

Yours sincerely, Jane Gilles

From: David Thorne
Date: Monday 13 Oct 2008 3.17pm
To: Jane Gilles
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Whose spider is that?

I understand and will definately make a payment this week if I remember. As you have not accepted my second drawing as payment, please return the drawing to me as soon as possible. It was silly of me to assume I could provide you with something of completely no value whatsoever, waste your time and then attach such a large amount to it.

Regards, David.

From: Jane Gilles
Date: Tuesday 14 Oct 2008 11.18am
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Whose spider is that?

Attached

I could blog...

2008-11-08T14:21:00.004+11:00

the week I spent living in the past
the time I watched a friend repeatedly smash himself over the head with a glass
the flowers I got on Friday
how everybody smelt like sex on Friday
the gym instructor who shits me
and the gym instructor that tells us to work out to music, but who cannot pick the beat to save his life.
why I was gutted by the news on the day Obama won the election.
the time I cleaned the floor with bread (yes, this really did happen).

I could blog it all. But, you see, I've lost my blogging mojo. I can't find it anywhere. I even looked down the back of the couch. The truth is that right now, my life is pretty basic - work, gym, sleep, repeat. I don't even cook or eat really.

I know if I say I'll be back in a month, I won't. I either won't come back, or I'll be blogging again in 2 days. The truth is, I'll be back... whenever I'm back.

Mish & Mash

2008-11-04T17:13:00.004+11:00

Fuck me, I soo have the Menstrual Madness today. But there is one thing that will always perk me up. Money. Fuck off, I already know I'm a shallow bitch. So I'm fucking grumpy. It has a little to do with the expected arrival of Aunt Flo. But mostly its because I'm shitty at work. I'm currently working for our sister organisation. We still have some work over there, and they are understaffed, so I got sent over to help out. And everybody there whinges about the work they've been left with, which is nobody's fault. And the people who work where I am. I get that they're understaffed, just shut up and fuck off already! So after almost a month, this constant nagging has given me the shits. Well, not literally. This new diet of mine means I'm trying to push out rocks. Thank fuck I don't actually eat anything, or I'd be trying to push out boulders!!! So I wander to work today. There are alot of freaks in my work area. A LOT! Coming out of the train station I had to giggle. There was this 'lady' standing on the corner, wearing knee high boots, big hair, and a leopard print cropped jacket. And she's talking to a guy in a silk shirt and black pants. Walking past them I notice the pattern on his shirt. Small quarter moons and stars. It looks like dude is wearing a freaking pyjama shirt! For all the world, they don't have that air about them, but they sure as fuck look like a pro and her pimp, her pimp in a pyjama shirt. A little further up the road I spy with my little eye, someone who looks like a bag lady, wearing a top hat (sleek and tall), with a bright red feather boa wrapped around it! See, everybody is a cup fasionista these days! I had put some money on last night. Now, I don't know anything about the races. I should, but I don't. I am fully prepared to put money on, but not get any back. Its just for the fun of it. My budget this year was $20, plus sweep money. Got myself a mystery bet, and ended up with the favourites. I played a bit of email ping pong, trying to get in on the work sweep, but to no avail. I wasn't there when they were doing the sweeping, so I couldn't do it. I managed to get in on a departmental sweep at morning tea. As for the race itself, I decided to leave the place I was working and go 'home' for it. I hit the door 5 minutes before the race started. Refreshments were out (which I avoided), and they had mini sausage rolls (which smelt better than sex). There were 3 horses left in a sweep. I put my money in, and dragged out some ponies. It was a truly awesome race to watch. So Viewed won. A beautiful win it was too. Sooo close. It turns out that the last pony I pulled out of the sweep was... Viewed! Huzzah! And I got all of my gambling money back, plus $5. Which is great. And I left there on such a high. Partly cuz the nameless hottie was looking at me. Shaddup. I'm going to do something about it, as soon as I go back to working where I belong. And then I almost got hit by a taxi going home. Stupid fucker.

2days gone.

2008-11-02T10:36:00.002+11:00

This weekend has been pretty eventful. Friday was a mate's 21st. And he had a party. Not too much really, but it was fun. I rocked up approximating on time (read:an hour late) and proceeded to meet people.

The party itself was fun. I didn't drink. I drove, and I used that as an excuse. I didn't want to drink because alcohol is the anti diet. At dinner I refused the pasta and potato bakes (which I LOVE), and had a roast meat roll with gravy (heaven) and salad. And then proceeded to snack on m&m's and penuts for the rest of the night. D'oh!

There was karaoke. Which was fun. Especially fun was watching my highly drunk boss get up and scream Sweet Child of Mine. Which I recorded. It was painful!

About an hour later the police showed up. There had been reports of a brawl. The neighbours heard my boss, and reported a freaking brawl! Yes, she was that bad!

I wandered out the front, where there were a group of people hiding, yes hiding behind the gate. Like they were all doing something wrong. One guy even had his drink hidden behind his back. Like the police could even see a glass bottle in the dark, behind a fence, in a mob of people. The guy was asking if it was ok for him to have his drink out there (in the back yard). I looked at him and asked if he was over 18. He gave me some smart arsed response along the lines of, 'Do I look like I'm under 18?' At which point I pointed out that he was overaged, at a private party. He's allowed to drink. He pondered this for a second, then held his drink in front of him.

Anyhoo, after the police turned up, all the youngun's disappeared. So it was pretty much me, my boss and her mate, the birthday boy, his family, his closest mates and the karaoke machine. I stayed for about another hour, then headed off. I was sleepy, and had a belly ache from eating nuts.

Damn. I never thought I'd be so old as to say that :(

Anyhoo, I awoke rather late yesterday. Quite happy and feeling lazy. I soon found out that I bought AA batteries instead of AAA! Oh noes!!! I was gutted. But still managed to have some fun.

So I finally drag my satisfied arse (I'm not taking that back) out of bed and get ready to head to the gym. My phone rings and its a mate of mine, I grab a breakfast shake and hit the door. Her dogs are in the vets (for 2 weeks, muchly $$$) and we head off to visit them. This is all the result of a contaminated treat, but I'll not go into details here for legal reasons.

Afterwards we trek out for sushi, then up to her parents place. We're intending to go see Max Payne, but my eyes are itchy as all shit, so we quit that and head home. I race in the door, unsure if I want to rip out my contacts or go tot he bathroom first. I compromise. Out comes the offending contact and I head to the bathroom.

After removing the remaining contact I boot up my computer and begin to do dishes. At which point all hell breaks loose. When I return to my desk to pick up a cup, I find several pleas to call a friend - one of herkids has stepped on a kitten and its dying. She doesn't have a car, so she needs a lift to the vets. I grab my keys and head out the door. What followed was 2 and a half hours of driving around for her, listening to her berate her children and blame them for killing the kitten. And then taking her to get dinner.

She invited me in when I dropped her home, but I declined. My eyes were still sore and I was tired. Also, having been to the vets for 2 different people in one day had me a little nervy that I might be taking my babies to the vet that night, you know, since bad things happen in threes.

Arriving home, I found a police car, a divvy van, and an ambulance all stationed around my place. Umm. Ok then. Heading in, I find the security doors in the basement were absolutely shattered. It looked like someone had been in there throwing bricks at it. And, indeed, there was a brick in there. And about four policemen walk out of the apartment opposite mine when I get up to my floor. So I played nosy neighbour for about an hour, with my eye pretty much glued to the peephole.

Then I went to bed.

Today I'm still in my jammies. Its after midday. I intend to go to the gym, and that's about fucking all!

News.

2008-10-30T21:37:00.002+11:00

Here is a direct copy/paste of the post on my weight loss blog. Copy/pasted cuz I know you fuckers don't click links :P

****

Much excitement to be had today. I weighed myself. I've been feeling pretty good all week, after taking a few days to adjust to the new diet. And the scales told me I've lost 1.5 kg since Saturday.

WOW!!!

Yay fucking me!

So, a quick rundown on the diet.

I'm doing celebrity slim. I didn't like the meal plan. So I tweaked it. Mostly because people lose weight on that diet without exercising, and I wasn't giving up my exercise. Did I say 'tweak'? I means to say 'I ripped it apart and made a new one'.

So the recommended diet is

one shake for breakfast
a low carb, low fat snack
one shake for lunch
a low carb, low fat snack
a 'balanced' dinner (read: chicken/other lean meat and vege)
a low carb, low fat snack.

But no fruit (small apples, small oranges, half a mango, half a cup of berries, pears and peaches, max 3 servings of each per week), no carbs (cereal bread, rice, pasta), max 6 eggs a week.

Now, I can do snacks. I love snacks. That type of eating plan is what I live for. But I can't do the no fruit and no cereal thing. Especially since I went out and bought a stack of fruit that was on the 'naughty list', and 2 boxes of breakfast cereal. Plus I figured that since I was exercising I needed the extras, I could have them, so long as I was careful.

So what I tend to do is

bowl of cereal for breakfast, with carb blocker and vitamins
museli and yoghurt, or strawberries and yoghurt
salad, chicken and veg, or sammich.
apple on the walk from work to the train station
fruit when I get home (a WHOLE mango or some melon). I need the boost for...
GYM
shake for dinner
maybe some crackers with low fat tzatziki, or reduced fat avo dip for a snack.

I keep a meal and exercise diary too. It has an easy column to measure how much exercise you've had, how much water you've drunk, and you're fruit/vege intake per day. I drink about 2 litres of water a day. Very easy considering how much I sweat at the gym. And if I go to the gym late I skip the fruit when I get home, and have 'dinner' beforehand.

I should also point out that I have cut back on what I eat too. I used to have a snack as museli/yoghurt and fruit, and a big bowl of fruit salad when I got home from work. But I've dropped that.

The first few days on this diet gave me the most awful headache. And it absolutely fails if you're prone to boredom eating, so this weekend will be quite the test for me. But so far, I'd have to say this one is working quite well. I feel great. I really do.

I laughed so hard I cried.

2008-10-29T17:57:00.000+11:00

Freaks on the train! FREAKS ON THE TRAIN!!!

2008-10-27T17:29:00.003+11:00

What is it about public transport that brings out the inner freaks of the already freakish?

I was happily sitting on my air conditioned train, reading my free newspaper when someone comes down the aisle. The train lurches and dude leans over me. He stays there (trying to regain his balance I assumed) until long after the train has steadied again, before taking the seat opposite me.

Dude was wearing cut off denim shorts, a wide open white shirt, with copious amounts of chest hair, and more wrinkles than a shar-pei.

About halfway into my trip he interrupts my reverie to ask where the train was headed. I supplied the intended destination. He began to ask me about the train route. I told him I didn't know, it was an express and I got off at the first stop.

He leaned back and I put my headphones in again.

Then a tug at my paper. I pulled down the corner and looked at him. The old gent was asking about my heritage. Guessing my heritage is no easy task, let me tell you. He was Italian and thought I was Greek. Smile and nod, headphones in ears.

A tug at my paper. I figured the old guy just wanted a chat, so I tolerated it. The questions about what I do, where do my family live, where I work, where I live. After each question I'd put my headphones back in and return to my paper, clearly just wanting to be left the fuck alone. Only to have him tug at it a few minutes later. I told him what suburb I was in and a very loud voice in my head screamed at me to NOT give out personal details. Finally he tells me that he goes out in Parra alot. He's single and looking for a partner.

As if that didn't cause a recoil in my belly, then he had a good, long stare at my boobs.

I began counting the stops. 'Old Gent' had officially become 'Crusty Fucker'. Those four stations have never, never had such a long distance between them.

Mundane Experiences

2008-10-19T15:53:00.015+11:00

Sometimes I forget how special my life is. Living in Australia you get a bit 'blah' about our amazing country. We are too laconic.

My mate Kez has recently been posting naked pics of himself. Go on, have a look. Just because I feel weird looking at his willy doesn't mean you shouldn't!

For those still reading, there is a pic there of il papa with a kangaroo. And it reminded me that we have some pretty amazing wildlife. I've worked with kangaroos,

Refused to touch Koala's (diseased little fuckers)
hand fed pelicans (a bit nerve racking considering their beaks)

Am so over Budgies, my Dad used to breed themplayed with Wombats,
Laughed at Cassowaries. From up above. Dangerous, vicious creatures that they are.

hand fed Tawny Frogmouths,
And cockatoos
Spent hours watching a platypus swim

And had echidna spines on my door.Played with Crows
And water dragons.
Had a friend own and breed blue tongues

Seen the sky turn grey from the galah's.

Studied Emu farming systems
Seen countless people swooped by magpies
Marvelled at just how tiny Thorny Devils are

Pulled skin worms out of a green tree snake
Lived opposite a guy who had a couple of 4m scrub pythons in his room.
Nearly trod on a tiger snake
Spent endless nights at uni catching frogs
Been unmoved by huntsmans. Unless they're in a small space with me (i.e the toilet) or expect me to sleep in the same room. In which case they FREAK ME OUT!Had my blood run cold at the sight of a small spider - the red back

And have had close mates work with saltwater crocodiles.
Our wild life is just that - wild. Its strange and fascinating. And BORING! We're so used to them, that these creatures that others consider exotic and dangerous. Where they would freak people out, we just know to avoid them. We play with dangerous snakes, spiders and scorpions as easily as we would harmless ones.

This was a really fun post to do. Its not often I truly appreciate what we've got here.

And right now I'm highly distracted. Observe.

Cocktober

2008-10-18T11:54:00.002+11:00

I found the funniest Facebook group. And it prompted me to ask...

What is your penis name? (guys)

OR

What's the best penis name you've come across? (girls)

My fave would have to be Wrecker.

Momentary lapse.

2008-10-17T21:11:00.003+11:00

I dunno what I was thinking this morning.

Three months in a new job. I change trains at Town Hall, go two stops to Kings Cross, and walk to work. I've done this every morning for 3 damn months.

This morning I don't know what happened. I climbed up the stairs of the train at the second stop. And stepped out onto the platform of the station past King Cross.

Damn.

Damn Moments

2008-10-13T18:05:00.002+11:00

Don't you hate damn moments? I know I do. That moment where you're out there, deliberately or accidentally, and you get utterly no response.

Case in point - The Accidental Damn Moment.

I have been eating healthy over the past few months. And not doing too bad either. I've shed 5kg so far. But that's not the point. I had soup for lunch one fine day. Quite a large bowl of soup. And two slices of (wholemeal) bread. But I decided to head out to get a salad to accompany my soup, since it was mostly water and I'd be famished 2 hours after eating it. So I purchased quite a large salad, figuring I'd eat half and put half in the fridge for the next day.

So I'm sitting there with my sizable salad, my big bowl of soup, a cup of water, and two slices of bread. Ready to chow down. Spoon in hand, I spot someone walk into the tea room and recognise the hot guy. I steadfastly stare down at my food and my blood runs cold, and my stomach sinks to somewhere near my ankles.

I'm staring at the quantity of food in front of me. My sizable salad, my big bowl of soup, my drink AND bread as well.

Damn.

Case in point - The Deliberate Damn Moment.

So we had some visitors to work today, about four in total. We were showing them around and my boss asked me to introduce a room to them. I felt all inspired to crack a fantastic joke. Now, the point here is that I thought (and still do think) that this joke was a brilliant off the cuff moment.

With a grand gesture towards the doors I proclaimed, 'Well, this is Room 138, and this is Room 139.'

*Insert cricket noise here*

'They're happy to meet you.'

*Quiet nervous giggle from one of them.*

Damn.

Ready?

2008-10-12T21:36:00.002+11:00

Well. I learned something about myself on the weekend. I had a lovely ME date. Took myself out to dinner. At a sushi train. Surprisingly, I don't think anyone would have noticed I was there by myself. Looking around I realised everyone was too preoccupied watching what was coming around the train to be concerned about the white single fattie. Its a good place to go if you're eating by yourself.

Then I went and saw the late screening of My Best Friends Girl. I liked that movie. It was a comedy, but more like a chick flick for guys. I loved the scene where they hooked up.

She grabs his hand and sticks it on her arse, 'You think this is too big?' He grabs her hand and sticks it on his crotch, 'You think this is too small?' They kiss and disappear into the house. Yep. Totally something I'd do.

I did enjoy it, and think it was worth spending the night out seeing. But walking home afterwards I felt... kind of empty. I wasn't ready for the night to end. It would have been nice to be walking home with somebody, laughing and joking about the movie. Quoting crappy lines to each other.

As much as I enjoyed the night, and as much as I love my independance, I'm ready to start dating. It saddens me to type that, and I don't really know why.

But acknowledging the fact is kind of scary. I have resisted that idea for so long. For too long. I've been the fat chick most of my life. Its easier when you're fat. You assume guys are repulsed, you have no expectations. The last few years I've played. Never really interested in settling. Hell, never really caring if I never saw the guy again. In some cases that was a good thing.

Inside me I'm still the fat girl. Guys like what they see, and I know it, but I don't have the confidence to approach, or to let them approach. Where do I start? Outside of work I have the gym. That's it. No dancing. And I'm not into the pub/club crowd. I can fuck a guy. No sweat. Well, lots of sweat, but no worries. But to let them go further... I don't even know really how to date.

Right now the main guy in my life is my personal trainer. And although he's hot, and has a great personality, I have zero interest in him that way. He reminds me very much of my cousin.

I've been watching the hot guy at work since my second day there, but I've disgraced myself pretty much beyond redemption there. Hell, the first time I ever heard him speak was last week, and it wasn't to me. I still don't know his name.

I'm a bit nervy about going back to internet dating too. I never blogged about the last 'date' I had, but it was pretty devastating. Plus if I did resort to internet dating again, it would be for different reasons. I couldn't trust the guys on a new site. At least on the old site they were forward about what they wanted.

I'm at a loss. I have this desire to do something that most girls my age do with little concern. And I don't really know where to begin. I feel like I'm in the middle of a raging river, standing on a rock. I need to get to the bank. Its to close I can see and smell it. People are there, waving to me and calling me to join them, but I don't know how to get there.

This shit was easier when I didn't care.

Date Night

2008-10-11T18:52:00.002+11:00

So its Saturday. Which equals date night. I've just cleaned. Boy, did I clean (about 4 hours worth)! Now its time to prepare to go out.

I've just started a facial. I'm waiting for my mask to dry, then its a long, hot shower, shaving my legs, and 'kini line (being careful not to aggrivate the ingrown). Then moisturizing all over. I might use self tanning moisturiser on my legs to make them look gorgeous honey brown. Then on with a gorgeous outfit. Maybe a dress? Maybe my 'skinny' jeans with a sexy top, killer heels and a biker jacket. Who knows? The look will be completed with perfume and makeup. And I'm ready for the date.

A movie maybe? Definitely dinner. I'm thinking sushi. Good conversation with a girls true, hot equal. I don't think we'll linger. Maybe we'll move on to the movie. Alone in the dark, so comfortable.

Then home, maybe for a hot passionate session. Why waste freshly shaved goodness? But no pressure if I'm not in the mood.

Yep. I love the ME date!

Crotch update

2008-10-07T22:32:00.000+11:00

How nice is it when you have an ingrown hair, and it just sits there for sooo long*, that you're beginning to freak** that you've got herpes*** and you finally free that little fucker.

I don't have herpes. Phew!

*just a little red lump, no infection, no hair visibly hiding. For three weeks dammit!
**there is no minor worry stage. You skip that and go for full out freaking.
*** cuz I'm such a fucking innocent angel.

Oh My!

2008-10-06T10:58:00.003+11:00

Gawd damn, am I bored now? I'm at work. Its a public holiday. There's me and my boss. We're waiting for some cleaners to finish doing what they do, and its all hands on deck for about 20 minutes. Then home time.

Waiting sucks.

I got my first mobile phone when I was 18. It was my dad's second hand crapmobile. I hated it. I had to tape the battery in place, and if you held it the wrong way whilst writing a text, it died. If you pressed to answer a phone call, it died. If you ignored it for too long, it died.

Plus it was hideous. I hated that phone. It didn't even have predicative text!

My second phone was a 3315. I loved that phone. It was everything my old phone wasn't. It was sleek, it was stylish, and it never died. Not even when I dropped it off the second story balcony. It bounced, the cover exploded, but it still loved me. I swear, nokia's are indestructible. I loved that I could personalise it too. It had a Garfield cover, with him sitting in a flowerbed saying something about eating daisies. The ringtone was the muppets. And it did the chicken dance when I got a message. It had all the games you could ever want. There's really nothing better than a game of snake to keep you occupied. I had that phone for 3 years. But I wanted more. I wanted a camera.

So I upgraded. I had a cute little sagem for about 3 months. It was really cute. Mum got (and still has) the cute sagem. I ended up switching to another carrier, and getting a 'cool' new phone.

Biggest.Mistake.Ever!

I went for the LG 8330. Sure, it had a flip. And a camera. And it took reasonable qualilty photos (for that time), but I couldn't transfer the photo's to my computer. The buttons stuck, the battery died, it didn't play music, let alone radio. Yeah, I hated that phone. The only cool thing was the camera, it spun around and you could take pictures from in front or behind the phone. That was pretty cool, but in the end that ended up fucking up too. It got stuck. Poo.

Now I have the n95. Yeah, nothing beats that. Its like sex in a phone. I was sold with the camera. 5mp. That was the thing I refused to budge on. My new phone had to have a 5mp camera. The other features (the mp3 player, GPS, bluetooth, radio, dual slide, web browsing, TV output) are just gravy. Very thick, juicy gravy.

But I do miss features of the 3315. It was simple. Very easy to use. No trying to upgrade software and having my memory deleted. None of that. And it was indestructible. Yeah. I'd have to say that I did love that phone.

Shame it didn't have a camera.

So. Tell me. What was your first mobile? Or what was you most/least favourite and why?

I love this ad!

2008-10-03T21:57:00.000+10:00

Todays shoe selection

2008-09-29T17:49:00.001+10:00

Bad bathroom habits and movies.

2008-09-28T20:08:00.004+10:00

Well, I was a little nervous drafting the last post. I wasn't sure how it would be received. But it seems to have gone ok. Either that, or you lovely people remembered some wise words; 'if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all'.

****
I hate September. Fucking Christmas decorations always go up. I spotted this on the 25th. 3 full months before Christmas. Fuck! I'm broke now. I don't need to go thinking about bloody spending money I don't have.

****
A few days ago I went to go to the bathroom. As I went reached the door, I found it to be locked, so began to walk away. Two steps later and the door opens behind me. Brilliant! I am in much need of a pee.

A lady walks out and advises me to wait a few minutes. Which I'm ok with. She doesn't want the embarrassment of me going into her smell, and I sure as hell don't want that discomfort. So I turn to go. And she follows me down the corridor, telling me she shouldn't have eaten the curry last night. I hesistated, shocked. Apparently that's the human cue for 'do go on', cuz she proceeded to tell me how 'they always say to eat the chilli, but you never should.'

TMI much?

****
I saw the new Mummy movie today. I did quite like it. Although it wasn't as funny as the original two. So not as many snappy one liners as you'd expect. And I thought that Rick suddenly having Matrix style martial arts skills was a bit over the top.

But the thing that shitted me most... Rachel Weisz didn't play Evie. So they got some random chick to do it. And she ruined the character. Evie was an intelligent scatterbrain. And a bit of a tom-girl. You know, not afraid to get dirty, but goes all gooey for her man. The new Evie was intelligent, but not a scatterbrain. More centred. And she fought! What was with that? She could defend herself in the old movies, but not attack. New Evie played with guns. Rachel's Evie didn't do that. She thought it was just silly. And new Evie's accent was definitely an American failing to do English. Bad job. They should have killed her off when she didn't sign up.

And Rick called her Evie, right from the start! Bullshit! In the first two movies he always called her Evelyn. The only time he didn't was when she died.

But the Yeti's were fucking AWESOME!!!

****
I have a few disgusting habits. One of them is born from a paranoia that my vadge smells. Every time I go to the ladies, I swipe and sniff. I gotta say, the vast majority of the time, its not a bad smell.

What's your worst habit.

...but sometimes the story is more interesting

2008-09-26T21:55:00.005+10:00

So. The question was asked. And the answer shall be given.

I was that girl. Who could only have disgraced herself more if she had pissed herself at the same time. But you know what, it was so worth it.

I'm going to say that on a 9/10 scale she made a complete fool of herself in front of one of the guys she has a crush on at work, then managed to fall over in public and thanks to way too much free grog the comments of her stomach decided to eject themselves, but at least it was memorable.

Am I close?

Well Kez, yes you were. But you had inside help there. Even though I don't remember texting you, the evidence remains in my phone.

We had a celebration at work. The free champagne flowed. And flowed. And flowed. And then got split, before flowing again. I wouldn't say I made a complete fool of myself. But I was dancing with my hands in the air. I was stumbling around a fair bit. And I did fall over. That I remember quite clearly. I was trying to be all sexy and wiggle around and show off. And I bobbed down... and down... and then fell over. Much laughter was had and I attempted to pass it off as a deliberate move. I failed. But quite happily. One of the guys at work helped me off the ground and we all had a good laugh at me.

The party started to die down and the hottie had left, though I suspect he saw me fall over. So we decided to head to the train station. I staggered, and stumbled all the way. Giggles abounded.

I staggered onto the train. Found myself a seat. And promptly passed out. I blearily opened my eyes as two girls sat opposite me. I shut my eyes and passed out again.

I awoke next, with the feeling of upchuck in progress. I clamped a hand over my mouth and tried to bite back. I failed. Epically. Hand still over my mouth I began to kick the girl sitting opposite me. I indicated that she should move, and she did. The guy sitting next to her fled. Chivalry is dead. Another guy in the carriage handed me a pack of tissues with which I attempted to clean myself up. The window was opened and I was grateful for the fresh air.

I passed out again.

I next awoke to the same feeling. Upchuck. Massive upchuck. Epic upchuck. Nothing was going to stop this. Helplessly I just let it out. All.Over.Myself.

EWWWWWW!!!!!

Repeat.

EWWWWWW!!!!!!

I fled this time. With utter mortification. And apologising profusely, promising to get off at the next stop. I flicked open my phone to call a mate to come pick me up from wherever I was (I had no idea) and the fucker died. I kept trying to turn it on, but kept dropping it, exploding the back cover off and sending the battery flying. I did this at least three times.

So all I could do was stand near the door, and wait for my stop. Luckily it was only two stations away. I wrapped my cardi around me to try to conceal the gunk, though the stench probably gave it away.

I got off at the appropriate station, and stumbled home. As I stood on the corner waiting for the lights to change, random dude asked if my phone was working. I assured him I was fine and disappeared.

I woke two hours later on the bathroom floor, jumped into the shower fully clothed, and headed to bed. With bucket.

The next day was... interesting. I felt ok, but my stomach was a tad sore. I couldn't keep down fluids. They came right up. I spent morning tea stretched out on the floor of the change room. It was quiet and dark and I needed a nap. I kept getting interesting looks from people. I managed to keep down fluids (flat lemonade) by morning tea and solids (chips and gravy) by lunch. Though was still quite tender.

General consensus is that I enjoyed the party immensely. Possibly the most out of everyone there. They didn't see the disgrace of the train. And I'll never see the randoms from the train again.

All in all, the night was quite enjoyable. I'd do it again. Though, maybe next time, I wouldn't have the last glass of champagne.

A picture is worth a thousand words...

2008-09-25T18:21:00.002+10:00

I have an image in my head.

A girl stands on a corner, waiting for the light to change. She smells of vomit, her shirt is wet and she sways slightly. A stranger asks her if she's been having problems with her phone and she replies 'nah, nah mate. I'm fine.'

How did she get there I wonder?

Would you care to guess?

Ooops...

2008-09-22T18:36:00.002+10:00

At the gym yesterday. It was freaking hot and I'm sweating my arse off. Sexy much? Well, my hot personal trainer come in from his other job and we get to chatting.

Attempting to make a comment about the atmosphere in the gym, my tongue falls over itself and creates the statement, 'I don't know if its just you, but its hot in here.'

Freudian slip much?

Help Required!!!!

2008-09-19T19:51:00.002+10:00

Ok. My electricity bill came in. Its high. Damn high. Over $500. And my roomie will expect me to pay half.

The kicker is that I would use the dryer for an average of one hour a week. And she would use it for about three hours a week. Her boyfriend spends at least half of the nights of the week here. And he does shower and wash/dry his clothes here occasionally too.

Insert help in comments section....

The people you see...

2008-09-16T17:50:00.007+10:00

So it's been a week since I blogged. Like last week, this one has a bit to blog about.

Darling Harbour is having fireworks. Just because. Anyhoo, a friend and I decided to head into the city to catch them. I love fireworks. And yes, there is audio with these, and I am talking in the background.

Nothing will make you feel more like a kid than watching fireworks. Unless, it's crawling around in a fountain at night. Sober.

***
Sunday was at the gym. As is normal now I guess. I failed my weigh in. Boo. Then I did some grocery shopping and had a quick (healthy) lunch. And whilst I was eating I was people watching. A family sat down opposite me and I watched. And judged. I judged like all hell!

One of the boys sat down with a chicken schnitzel and nothing else. He picked up his crumbed, greasy chunk of chicken flesh with his hands, and began to eat it LIKE IT WAS A COOKIE! Surely his mum would smack him across the back of the head when she sat down with her lunch. But no. And I judged her for that. But not as bad as when I saw her lunch. Grilled fish with sauce and chips. Which she ate with her fingers as well. Not just the chips, she picked up the soggy fish with her fingers, slopped it around the plate and shoved her fingers up to the second knuckle, all the way in her gob.

Stomach turning I got up to leave. And as I walked past the table, I saw the other one. The other grotty little kid. With one hand wrapped around a burger and the other buried deep in his pants, scratching his arse.

***

This morning I caught the train as per usual. There were a group of young school boys on the train. Typical kids. Loud, obnoxious brats. Being kids. Whatever, I was going to get off the train in two stops. But there was this cranky looking old 'lady' glaring at these kids. Not only that, but she was chewing too. Like she just wanted to leap over the seats and beat those kids over the head. But she was holding back, literally biting back her rage. I imagine it was the female version of Fingers.

***

We have toilets at work. Strange but true. And these toilets have locks on the doors. Well, I should say toilet, because there is only one, and it's unisex. We all piss in the same pot. So I went to the bathroom today, fiddled with the lock to make sure it was locked, and sat to do my business.

Finishing up, I pulled my underwear up, and the door flew open! I turned around with a shock to see a coworker, look of horror on her face, staring at me. I was so lucky it was a) a girl, and b) that I had pulled up my underwear.

She got a look at my fat (covered) ass and thighs, but that was about it. We've been laughing about it all afternoon. But it was a *tad* embarrassing.

I have gossip!

2008-09-09T20:30:00.003+10:00

So the last few days have been pretty big for me. And my gelatinous waistline. I'll try to tell it all in order.

First: The Conference...

I had a work conference. It was great. My first conference. I was sharing a registration with a coworker. She got to go for 2 days, but I'm not complaining. If I had to pick one day, it would have been the one I was allocated. However, I did get to go to a dinner on both Wednesday and Thursday. Free champagne was to be had. And free food, but who really cares about that when there is champagne? We had a lovely waitress on Wednesday who would target us and refill our glasses, then do a round, return to us, refill our glasses and then pick up dishes. I love her. Thursday dinner was a harbour cruise. And I LOVED it. I love Sydney, and the skyline from out there was brilliant. But, after a few champagnes I stopped admiring the view and got to the merry making.

Friday was the conference itself. I loved it. Being the last day they were giving away everything rather than pack it up. I scored at 3 bags and filled them with least a dozen stress balls, a full set of mugs, 2kg of cat litter and about 50 pens/pencils. I also acquired *hem*stole*hem* roughly 50 teabags and 10 hot chocolates. And I went all klepto on packets of breath mints before they stopped putting them out too. I love free shit. I had to carry 3 bags of shit (plus my bulging handbag) back in the rain, but it was so worth it.

Second: A few hours to myself... sorta.

I went home straight after the conference. The weekend was my flying (literally) visit to Melbourne so I didn't have much time. I did a basic clean and headed out to the gym. My personal trainer had me doing weight and finished off with some ab work. There was a strange move where I lay on the ground, with my arms stretched upwards. I grabbed his ankles and he bent over, held his hands out and I tried to touch them with my feet. As we assumed the position and he held his hands up, I glanced up and saw the shadows in his shorts. And all that went through my head was 'look at his hands lookathishands lookathishands lookathishands lookathishands.'

Third: The party

Saturday I flew to Melbourne. Flight was ok. Strangely, for a Qantas flight, it was uneventful. The added bonus was that there was pretty much nil chance of terrorists. I figured they wouldn't bother with a carrier that could do the job for them.

Kez picked me up and the plan was for him to drop me at my rellies where I'd be staying. We'd be there a polite amount of time, and then head into the city. Well, that was the plan. It failed. My rellies can gasbag. My sincerest apologies kez. I was all ready to leave when they started talking about some really juicy gossip to do with my cousin and his wife. And her family. I wanted to see one picture of the brides mother, and then we got stuck scrolling through family pics. Which I found boring, but it must have been mind numbing for kez. He tolerated it well.

One highlight though, I was putting on my rings and my mother made a comment about my 'penis fingers'. This cracked Kez and myself up no end. Of course we were both thinking of my penchant for masturbation, but not game enough to say it. And yes, I do have penis fingers, they are quite satisfying.

Kez dropped me back in the city for dinner. Right out the front of the place where we were going to eat. Sadly no time for a coffee or any boobie flashing or assorted shenanigans, but I did get a good laugh watching him burn his arse with a cigarette.

Dinner itself was really quite nice. Lovely even. But expensive. And I didn't really appreciate the deep fried beans. I did, however, enjoy the mouthful of wine that arrived with each course. I especially liked taking the glass that my brother or Dad's partner didn't want and (classily) tipping it into my glass and drinking it from there. But I missed out on my fried ice cream. I adore fried ice cream and its something that I have if its on a Chinese menu. Alas, this time they had run out.

25 hours in Melbourne, and it was time to fly back. It was short but sweet. If it had been much longer I'd have made plans to catch up with people, and would have run myself ragged.

Fourth: The nameless hottie...

Right from the get go at work, I've admired the sexy in the vicinity. But there is one in particular. I've been watching him from my second day. I have no reason to talk to him. He works on my floor, but on the other side of it, behind walls and stuff. I noticed him every time I saw him. But didn't acknowledge him, because being acknowledged by a stranger is just weird.

A week or so ago, we ran into each other in the cafeteria. And I realised that even though I had been systematically ignoring him (its a girl thing), and he hadn't paid me any attention, he knew who I was. Several times since we've made and momentarily held eye contact in passing.

I resolved to find out his name. By asking a co worker who I felt would be quite discrete. Today the chance happened. Several others were going out to a meeting, and he was walking around in sight, at the other side of the floor. I quickly grabbed my coworkers arm and asked her if she knew his name. She turned and looked at him, as did the two other people there. I realised it was as obvious as the sun, refused to look at him and blushed Zoidberg red. Maybe news will follow. Maybe not. Who knows. But I did catch him looking over to my desk this afternoon.

As an aside...
Note to self: Don't wear boyshort panties to the gym. They tend to turn into a g-string type situation and its just not fun being on the cross trainer with the feeling of something trying to poke the back of your eyeballs through your arse.