Posted by Lucy | Under mindless pap, photos and stuff, stuff & nonsense
Wednesday Nov 11, 2015
Posted by Lucy | Under Boy McBoy, mindless pap, ranty mcrant, stuff & nonsense
Monday Aug 31, 2015
Posted by Lucy | Under dieting is evil
Monday Jul 20, 2015
It’s the last day of winter today and I am ready, totally fully ready, for Spring. We’ve started getting cold but sunny days and it is marvelous. I used to have chickens as a teenager (I did an Agriculture class at school and surprised Dad one day with three chicks) and when they’d hit a sunspot in the backyard they’d stretch one wing out and just collapse. Exactly like this.
This is me at the moment, hit a sun ray, want to collapse.
Things are chugging along okay. I’m still doing okay with my study and I’m up to my third assessment. It’s an assist client topic so it’s pretty similar to some of what I do in IT, e.g. help the helpless, so I’m chugging along nicely.
We had a death in the family quite recently and Mum flew home for the funeral, while it was a shit occasion it was so good to see her and her side of the family. They’re all good people and fucking hilarious. We kind of neglected that side after Mum moved interstate so it’s good to reconnect. I, as usual, look nothing like anyone in the family. Everyone’s all fair skin and freckles and thin and I’m tubby and brunette with olive skin tones.
It’s also a nice change from Dad’s side of the family. Did I tell you they buried our grandmother without telling us? Good times! It’s the first time we’ve had a family falling out and while I’d really really prefer not to have had it happen I can understand how people hold a grudge for decades and decades. I am stubborn and I will hold this motherfucking grudge until they apologise. Because? Don’t bury one of my favourite people in the world, not invite us (including her son) and then get angry with us when we find out the day before and ask what is happening. In a bonus I got de-friended on Facebook by them. That’s a first during a fight from adults rather than teenagers :/
Still single. I’m pretty sure that I should just take a lover and avoid relationships. Is lover the adult euphemism for for FWB’s? I think so, much easier 🙂
Posted by Lucy | Under mindless pap, ranty mcrant
Thursday May 28, 2015
Despite being on a healthy eating thing (and surprisingly continuing to lose weight) I made a whole batch of triple fudge brownies on the weekend and yelled at my sister for stealing one and a half of them. I ate the rest.
Posted by Lucy | Under stuff & nonsense, work=evil
Sunday May 24, 2015
It appears I’ve now reached the age (34) where women my age, specifically friends, have started to lie about their age.
I find it really odd. Something happened when we moved from early 30’s to mid-ish 30’s and now each birthday there are “jokes” of turning 30 (again) or hitting late twenties.
While I know it’s joking it’s really not and it makes me sad. Especially knowing these women; they are amazing, intelligent, funny people who are so much better and happier now than they were in their teens and twenties.
I suppose it’s good that we/they haven’t started on the botox and fillers?
Posted by Lucy | Under ranty mcrant
Saturday Apr 25, 2015
It appears I’m going to have a career sea change.
A few weeks ago, while talking to my father, I realised that for someone who dislikes change working in IT is a really bad idea. Every time I master a product or skill there’s a new release or update or patch. Especially with mobility, that shit changes literally day to day. I’m not a fan of working nights or weekends yet have to do that pretty regularly. I have to constantly do reading and training to keep my skills up to date.
I know, I sound like a whiny lady.
I just…….the idea of doing this for another 15 years actively depresses me. I will be Jewish mother level disappointed in me if I’m still here in 5 years time.
So I enrolled in a legal services course and imma become a paralegal or legal secretary. I started a couple of weeks ago and so far it’s going really well. I originally went to uni to study law so a lot of it’s really familiar and it pleases my little heart to be studying it again.
I’m going to have to take a pay cut, a pretty big hurty pay cut. I’m hoping it’s worth it. God, I hope it’s worth it.
Posted by Lucy | Under stuff & nonsense
Monday Mar 30, 2015
I try not to give advice, because I am shit at taking it, but do not get broken into.
We were broken into last weekend and it has been a fucking nightmare. First, we were idiots and left our back door unlocked (entry point) but someone broke in after we (my sister and I) went to bed. They took my handbag (my beautiful new handbag!), my sisters wallet and the worst part came into our bedrooms to see what else they could take.
We, luckily, slept through it all but the creepy factor of having a stranger come into your home and watch you sleep is off the charts. Poppy sleeps in my bedroom at night with the door closed and the noise of her fighting with Sabine’s cat woke Sabine up at 2 a.m. when we discovered the break in. The police were excellent and came out and took statements soon after, we cancelled all of our cards that night so the thief didn’t actually get any money from us.
He’d stolen my keys, including my only car key so I stayed at home Monday to get a car locksmith out to cut a new key (segue! If you want a career where you make ludicrous amounts of money, become a locksmith. $400 for a basic new car key!) So Monday morning, Sabine leaves at her normal time for work, I slosh out of my bedroom in time to see someone jump our back fence. The fuck head had come back, we’re assuming to take what they couldn’t Saturday night.
I was instantly furious. An instant ball of fury in a chubby chick’s body, wearing pyjamas, no bra and hair like Medusa. I shout out and ask him what the fuck he is doing and to get out. He looks surprised and gormless for a couple of seconds and jumps back over the fence.
Call the police, again. Finger print person comes out, finds only weird prints as he was wearing mesh gloves. While the locksmith is out changing our front door lock I find a note under our front door from the upstairs neighbours, they were broken into on Saturday night, did we see anything? Homeboy has been busy.
We put notes up around the apartment building with our mobile numbers, two other apartments have been broken into in the past week. Receive a hot tip from a neighbour about a local guy matching the description of fence jumper which I pass onto the police. There’s been a spate of break ins in the area and the constable thinks it’s all the one guy. Finger print people find a print from the upstairs apartment, so they at least have a description and a print now.
Spend most of the week organising for replacement cards, locksmith to come change our locks as he has our front door key, speaking with neighbours and police and using the excuse of ‘I was a victim of crime’ to my boss whenever I’m late for a meeting.
So yes, lock your doors and don’t get broken into. It’s bloody exhausting and scary.
Posted by Lucy | Under mindless pap
Monday Feb 16, 2015
So, my sister, Sabine, and I moved in together about 7 or 8 months ago. Since we’re both still alive I’m deeming it a success. I have noticed a few things though:
1. We are become more and more stupid the longer we live together. Last week Sabine apologised when her stomach growled. Except it was my stomach. She just assumed it was her and wasn’t worried that she wasn’t hungry or that she didn’t feel the growl. I am constantly saying and doing stupid things, I live to lie uncomfortable close to her and ask if she needs a hug. B
2. We are regressing to our childhood state. On the weekend I ran at her while carrying a 10 kilogram bag of river stones. Then was surprised that it hurt her. I also brush past her daily but it’s less brushing and more sexual harassment. (I also like to suggestively booty dance at her in my underpants even though she is a massive prude.)
3. Our cats (we have two now, I still have the Popster and Sabine’s old and cranky cat has moved in too) hate each other. After 6 months of living together they still stare at each other across the apartment like Maggie and her monobrowed baby nemesis. Her cat also hates me with a fiery passion even though I am desperate for it to love me. I don’t even particularly like her cat and call it a fuck face on a daily basis. But despite all my kind words and food bribery she continues to hiss at me constantly. I am torn between regularly trying to win her over whilst training Poppy to hunt her.
I think in essence we’ve just reverted to our childhood selves since we rarely lived together growing up and last lived together properly when we were about 6 or 7?
Essentially I’ve become the obnoxious younger sibling and she has become Hyacinth Bucket and we interact exactly like Emmett and Hyacinth.
Posted by Lucy | Under mindless pap, ranty mcrant
Wednesday Feb 11, 2015
I just found out that my manager, my 40+ year old competent manager, has never ironed a shirt in his life.
Even though he’s worked in the corporate world for 20+ years and wears a business shirt every work day of his life.
I just told him he is everything wrong with modern man and if I get fired because of it, it was totally worth it.
Posted by Lucy | Under mindless pap
Friday Feb 6, 2015
I am approaching my 34th birthday and I’m a little disconcerted by the idea. I’m 33 (obviously) so it’s not like I’m 25 turning 34 as very little will actually change from the 21st of April to the 22nd of April. But, still.
I’m blaming Mercury in retrograde for this because it’s a bitch of a thing and causes havoc whenever it’s happening. It’s been making me do a lot of thinking lately. What do I want my life to be like? Where do I want to be in 1 year, 5 years, 10 years? Where do I want to live? Since my retirement year is 2042 what job can I do for the next 30 years that won’t make me wish for an early heart attack?
I’m stopping for a bit to evaluate shit, what I want and what I don’t want and this is a good thing. It’s just very exhausting though and I’d like a lie down because I am getting on a bit now.
I blame this introspection on two things – a grey hair in my best friend’s eyebrow we discovered recently and a friend’s comment that I need to get onto baby making stat as my ‘window of fertility’ is narrowing quickly.
Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot.
To both things.
One – a grey hair fine, I’ve had grey hairs since my early twenties but an eyebrow hair. And if she has one surely I’ll have them but don’t notice because I dye my eyebrows. WHAT IF I HAVE A GREY PUBE?!
Two – Shut the fuck up about my “fertility window.” It’s my fertility window and I’ll do what I want with it. Whether that’s actually utilising it and having babies (ha!) or ignoring it and buying more pets is totally my call.
I fucking know. Of course I know about my body and its features and limitations. I’m a grown arse adult who is aware and prides myself and knowing this stuff.
It’s like the healthy eating kick I’ve been on lately where so many people continue to give me basic advice about eating well and losing weight. Especially because I rarely ask for advice because, well, fuck that. It drives me totally mental because I’m obviously doing okay with it as I’m down 20 kilograms (45ish pounds, I think?)
“Lots of fresh fruit and vegetables!” No shit Sherlock.
“Avoid saturated fats!” Jog on, champ.
I was going to say, it’s not that I don’t appreciate the advice, because I don’t. I just think people need to worry about their own stuff and leave others to worry about their shit. Because ultimately it makes me think and I don’t like that.
Writing this was good, it made me fired up rather than feeling a little down. Morale of this post – don’t give me fucking advice and don’t try and tell me what to do with my body.
There’s a shower room in our office that people used post-gym/exercise sessions. The problem is it’s not in the actual bathroom area, it’s just sitting there in between meeting rooms on the way to the server room.
So every time I walk past it, and hear the shower going, I’m super aware that only a metre or two away one of my work colleagues is naked.
That’s my thoughts for a Friday morning.